Save This Song
by IAmKlainer
Summary: Famous!Kurt AU: Blaine Anderson's life sucks. He has an abusive father and an uncaring mother. But what happens when he spends the summer in California, and runs into his favorite band? Kurt Hummel's living the high-life. He's in a band, and that band just happens to be the most famous of its kind. But with a horrible past that he hides from everyone, is he really ever okay?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: WARNING! This story will include non-con. The topic will be mentioned throughout the story, but the actual non-con will only be in a short section. You have been warned.**

**I just need to point out some differences between this story and Glee, since this is an AU story.**

**1) Next-year Seniors at McKinley are as listed: Blaine, Sam, Tina, Artie, Puck, Quinn**

**2) Next-year Juniors at McKinley are as listed: Kitty, Ryder, Jake, Marley, Unique, Sugar, Joe**

**3) Alumni of McKinley are as listed: Mercedes, Finn, Mike, Brittany, Rachel, Santana**

**4) Kurt did not attend McKinley. He joined the band at a young age, being only one year older than Blaine. He is still homeschooled on the road.**

**5) Dani and Santana have never dated.**

**If there are anymore important notes, I will do my best to list them before each new chapter.**

**Enjoy xx**

* * *

Blaine stared lazily at his phone, scrolling through his Twitter feed. He was the only person out of his group of friends who brought his lunch to school today, which caused him to be alone for the first couple minutes of the day's lunch hour.

Upon reading a certain post, Blaine groaned. It was an image that he was sure he had seen at least two-hundred times today alone, and he sighed deeply every time he saw it. More and more each time.

_Pamela Lansbury North American Tour. Are they coming to your city? Buy tickets now!_

It was funny how something as simple as an ad had the power to completely brainwash Blaine of any other thought. Pamela Lansbury (or PamLan, as Blaine liked to call it) was his favorite band. Their songs sought through to his soul, and filled his mind with comfort and safety. Even the simple feeling of not being alone.

But PamLan was more than a band to Blaine. It was his life. His literal life. Not because he was a major fanboy (in which, he indeed was) but because they actually saved his life. They reminded him of his importance, and gave him a reason to stay alive, despite Blaine's hard and torturous life.

And in a matter of fact, PamLan was coming to a city close to Lima. Westerville was only a two hour drive from where Blaine lived, and in fact, Blaine used to live in Westerville himself. But all in all, it didn't matter. His parents would never buy him tickets to go see some 'stupid band.' Especially this band.

"Okay, Sam. You better tell us now. The suspense is killing me!" Tina begged to Sam, as the two made their way back to the lunch table, followed by Artie, Quinn, and Puck.

"Gosh Tina, I said that I would, once Blaine was here, so stop whining!" Sam shot her a glare, which was indeed returned.

"Tell us what Sam?" Blaine asked, still clueless as to what was being talked about. The others sat around the lunch table, eager to hear what Sam's secret was.

"Alright, so you know how I have a great-aunt Barbra, right?" Everyone shook their heads, though they hadn't the slightest clue what he was on about.

"So apparently, she just died this past weekend!" There was a tone of excitement in his voice, as if he were happy that the old woman had passed.

"Sam, why are you happy about this?" Quinn questioned, seeming hurt.

"Because," Sam continued. "Barbra was filthy rich. And since we're the only relatives that care to send her a Christmas card every now and then, she left everything in her will to my family!"

Everyone's eyes widened. Sam, the kid who was dirt poor seemingly two seconds ago, was now the ere of a fortune? It just didn't seem possible.

"That isn't even the best part," Sam went on. "She owned a mansion out in Long Beach, California, which my parents are making into a summer home! We're going there all summer and-"

"Please say you're inviting us because if you weren't, I'd be really disappointed right now," Artie interrupted, causing a few giggles to erupt within the small group.

"Of course I'm inviting all of you! It's our last summer vacation; we need to make it epic!"

Cheers of excitement and pure joy were heard from the table, coming from everyone that is, except Blaine. Blaine couldn't believe what he'd just heard; _California?! _Blaine had barely been out of Ohio, let alone across the country.

"Sam, you have got to be kidding!" Quinn, laughed, also in seeming disbelief.

"Q, I'm not lying! Do you honestly believe that I could make something up like this? I mean, c'mon, we all know that I'm not the smartest person in the world," Sam replied, before taking a bite out of his sandwich. Quinn shrugged, then nodded in agreement.

"Wait a minute, do your parents know about any of this?" Tina asked. "It doesn't sound like them to agree to a group of wild, obnoxious teenagers staying with them all summer."

The blonde rolled his eyes. "Yes, of coarse I checked all of this with them first. And they only agreed as long as we follow some sort-of 'house rules' they're making. Gosh, do you guys really think that I'm that irresponsible?"

"Woah, slow down there, bro. What kind of rules are we talking about here? This trip sounds fucking awesome, but Puck doesn't follow many rules," Puck blurted out. He was never the one to follow _any_ rules for that matter, afraid that doing so would ruin his 'badassness.'

"I'm not sure yet," Sam said, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "But I'm pretty sure that they'll just be normal parent rules, like no drinking, having a curfew, things like that."

_Normal parent rules, _Blaine thought._ I wonder what other normal parent rules are._

"So, what do you guys say? Are you up for the summer of your lives? Some fun in the sun? The ultimate vacation? The-"

"Sam, I think we've got it," Quinn cut in. "But yeah, I'm in."

"I'll have to ask my parents first, but I'm pretty sure they'll let me come," Tina replied, in between bites of her near finished salad.

"Approval or not, I'm a definite yes," Puck retorted.

"There's no way I'm missing something like this. Count me in, yo," Artie agreed.

"That's great, you guys! What about you, B?" Sam asked, leaning in towards Blaine. "Can you handle being with Tina for a whole two months? She can get pretty annoying." Sam, who had clearly no intention of whispering, achieved a playful slap from Tina.

Blaine couldn't think of what to say. His parents wouldn't even let him go on this kind of trip with them, let alone a group of his friends. However, an unawakened part of Blaine was pleading him to go, as if this trip would make an extremely rememberable mark in his lifetime.

"Uh, I'm sure my parents will be cool with it as well," Blaine chuckled, trying to ignore the unconvinced looks given to him my nearly everyone at the table. None of them had ever met the Andersons; in fact, none of Blaine's friends even knew what they looked like. But they all knew one thing about Blaine's guardians: they were strict.

During spring break a couple years back, Quinn had invited Blaine and a few other friends to go to Six Flags with her family, over the span of three days. Blaine had been thrilled about the invitation, as he was new to McKinley that year and had just begun hanging around this circle of friends. However, the night before the trip, Blaine had to cancel because he suddenly fell ill.

This wasn't just a single occurrence. Almost every other time Blaine was asked to an event outside of school, Blaine came down with something, or had a last minute family gathering. It didn't take long for the McKinley students to figure out the cause of Blaine's untruthfulness, seeing as Blaine himself was quite the honest person.

Sam's uneasy look quickly molded into a bright, delightful smile. "Alright, looks like we've got ourselves a summer vacation!"

The gang began exchanging excited statements and high-fives, as did Blaine. But he couldn't help but worry how his parents would react to the idea.

* * *

Blaine sat at the family dinning table, quietly eating his meatloaf, trying to gain the confidence to ask his parents about the trip. The trio had eaten in utter silence for what seemed like hours, and the subject was eating Blaine alive. If he wanted to go on this trip, he needed to ask. Plain and simple.

"Mother, father, I have something I'd like to ask you," Blaine broke the silence, his voice cracking a bit.

His father looked down from the newspaper he was reading, and viewed Blaine throughly. "Son, if it's about those stupid band tickets, I've already told you; the answer is no."

Blaine's heart sunk the slightest bit. His father clearly was not in a good mood, though he never seemed to be. He was also sick of hearing that PamLan was a stupid band. His father didn't know the slightest thing about them. He even refused to listen to any of their music, saying that he could judge by the looks of the album cover that the band was marketed toward teenage girls, which was completely untrue in its own right.

"Pamela Lansbury aren't a stupid band," Blaine mumbled, loud enough to be heard. His mother shot him a disapproving look, that told him to change his tone straight away. "And that's not what I was going to ask you about, father."

His father raised an eyebrow. "Then what could be so important that you needed to interrupt my reading of _The Lima Times?_"

Blaine took a deep breath, and began to speak, sounding more confidant as he went on. "At lunch today, I was invited to spend the summer with Sam's family in California. And I know you don't really enjoy me spending a lot of time away from home, but this trip means so much to me. I rarely get to hang out with my friends, and this is my last summer vacation. Don't you think I've earned enough of your trust to spend a couple months away from Lima?"

Blaine looked up from his plate, into the deep glare of his father's aggravated eyes, awaiting an the answer that he feared would come. "That's preposterous!" His father raised his voice. "What makes you think I'd let you spend the summer with this Sam kid? You guys could be executing devious sins and I would have absolutely no clue!"

It took a while for Blaine to process what his father had meant, as it usually did. Being a businessman, Steve Anderson had always used his keen vocabulary, whether at work, or at home. None of these words caught Blaine off-guard, however the meaning behind them did.

_His father thought that he and Sam were going to have sex._

Blaine laughed at his dad's seemingly foolish thought, which also came as a relief. If his father has denied his wish just because of his fear of homosexual activities, Blaine would now be allowed to go, right?

"No, dad, that's not going to happen. Sam's whole family, along with a couple of our friends are joining us. Plus, Sam isn't gay, so there is no chance any of 'that kind of stuff' will be happening, anyway."

Steve slammed his paper onto the wooden table and shot out of his seat. "Are you back-talking to me, Blaine? I said you aren't going, and that's final."

Blaine was startled by his father's sudden eruption, yet also very infuriated. His dad couldn't say no. He just couldn't. With rage, Blaine stood up himself, dropping his fork onto the expensive porcelain plate with a clatter.

"Why? Give me one good reason I can't go. You always do this, every time I get invited to anything! You never did this to Cooper, you always let him go out with his friends! I'm seventeen! There's no reason I can't have some fun once in a while!"

"Blaine Devon Anderson!" Lucile Anderson scolded, becoming aware of the rising argument. Blaine had already regretted what he had said, but it was too late. His father was already making his way toward him.

Steve pushed his son against the nearest wall, holding his arms up above his head. "Do you need me to teach you another lesson, boy?" He spat, Blaine turning his face to the side. "Maybe you didn't hear me? That must be it. I'll repeat it one more time." He shouted through his teeth the words that killed his son. "You. Aren't. Going."

As soon as Steve let go of Blaine's wrists, he dashed out of the kitchen, up the stairs, and down the hallway into his room, tears already staining his face. He collapsed onto his bed and weeped, for what seemed like hours. No matter how hard he tried, his father's words wouldn't stop haunting him.

_You aren't going. You aren't going._

No matter what Blaine did, he would never be able to go. To anything and everything. The answer would always be no. And the horrible truth was that it wouldn't end after high school.

Blaine's parents would never pay for his collage funds. He would have no place to go, other than to stay in his hell of a home. Without the support of his family, his dreams of becoming a famous musician would never come true. He was trapped.

He needed something to calm himself down, before he ended up punching a hole through his wall. Blaine's eyes traveled around the room, until they landed on his laptop computer, which was placed directly next to his headphones. Reaching over to his night stand, he grabbed both objects and brought them to the bed. He plugged the headphones in and booted up the laptop. It didn't take too long for it to turn on, due to it being the top-of-the-line model. As much as he despised his father, Blaine admired his wealth.

Blaine clicked the Google Chrome browser and logged onto his Twitter account. It wasn't the best distraction, but he needed something to cheer himself up, which only his favorite band could currently do.

His timeline was filled with tweets in all caps, followed by identical youtube links. Blaine knew that PamLan must have posted a new video. There wasn't much else that could cause this big of an uproar. Clicking on the link, Blaine settled himself in his bed, using several pillows to prop up is head, while the rest of his body was flat against the mattress.

When the video was finally done buffering, it began to play, revealing Blaine's five favorite celebrities standing in a single-file line. They all stared at the camera for a moment, probably checking to see if it was on. Then, Elliott started to speak.

"Hello, PamLan fans! First of all, we would like to start off by saying thank you to everyone supporting us on our North American tour! It truly means the world to us, and we can't wait to see you all there!"

"However, there is another special announcement we'd like to make," Dani chimed in.

As the video progressed, Blaine became more enraged. He could hardly believe what he was hearing. When the video finally came to a close, Blaine slammed his laptop shut, more than likely cracking the screen.

He had bigger concerns than a broken computer. He needed a way to leave the house without his parents finding out. Yes, he was going to sneak out. As Puck had said, parent approval or not;

_There was no way he was missing this trip._

* * *

"I'm not kidding, guys. Berry used to wear animal sweaters and plaid skirts almost every day to school."

Kurtstood in between Rachel and Elliott, trying to conceal his laughter to a minimum as Santana continued teasing Rachel over her old fashion sense. Rachel, who's cheeks were currently sporting a bright red color, was attempting to defend her hideous old ways, knowing that really she couldn't hide her own grin for much longer.

"I'll let you know, those sweaters were very fashionable at the time, Santana!"

"Please, Rachel. When were granny-knit sweaters ever in style?" Santana fought back, causing Rachel to finally break down.

"You know what Santana?" She sent the Latino a playful look. "You're gonna get it now." Rachel suddenly shoved Kurt and Elliott out of the way, in an attempt to pull Santana's hair.

"Hey guys, break it up! We have a video to make," Joey, one of the band's managers jogged over to the group, pulling Rachel away from Santana and back into the line. "C'mon, don't mess up her hair, Rachel. Sel spent forty-five minutes trying to keep the frizz down!"

"What can I say, my hair's a wild beast, much like myself," Santana prodded, winking at Rachel, who was now sticking her tongue out at her.

"Gosh, how do I even put up with you two?" Joey mumbled to himself, making his way toward the camera that was being set up.

"Because you love us!" Rachel shouted back, smiling like a five year-old who had just lost their first tooth and wanted to show the huge gap between their teeth. Joey simply rolled his eyes, crossed his arms, and shifted his weight onto one foot. After three hours of preparation, the four band members were rounded up and ready to shoot.

_Wait, four?_

"Dani! Where the hell are you?"

Dani slowly made her entrance in the room, with her head down and thumbs thumping against the surface of her phone. This was no surprise; Dani was always connected to some piece of technology, whether it be her phone, computer, or anything with a glowing screen. She hadn't always been this way. It had started when her relationship with her girlfriend, Kylie, progressed. They couldn't seem to stand not talking to each other, even for a couple hours.

"Sorry guys, Kylie needed to tell me something," Dani admitted, making her place next to Elliott. She hurriedly typed one last text, and shoved the phone into her boot.

"Yeah, she had to remind you to come to her place after the shoot for some girl-on-girl action."

"Santana!" Rachel and Joey yelled at the same time, causing the clever smirk to grow even larger on Santana's face.

"You know it!" Dani cheered, giving Santana a high-five. Santana and Dani had a very...sexual relationship. They weren't dating, nor had they ever gone as far as a kiss (which was a dare from Elliott, so it didn't count anyway). However, they never failed to make a sex joke at any given chance, whether it be with Dani and Kylie, Santana and Brittany, or anyone else.

This always made Kurt uncomfortable. Kurt was never comfortable with sex. To him, it was a very serious thing that could either make you feel alive or destroy you emotionally. He just couldn't understand the humor behind sexual gestures or jokes. After all, sex wasn't made to be funny, was it? Kurt knew it wasn't. He knew both the horrible and beautiful outcomes of sex. He knew better than it came across.

_But he couldn't tell anyone._

"Can we just get this video over with, guys?" Kurt tried to speed up the process. He was dragging throughout the whole day, probably from the lack of sleep he had gotten the night before. No matter how hard he tried, he tossed and turned nearly all night, probably only getting around three hours of sleep.

"Okay, Lady Hummel. Chill, no need to get all bitchy," Santana recoiled, using the nickname she had given Kurt within the first week of them meeting.

"Are you guys going to talk all day? Because I could always just post a video of me announcing the month," Joey intervened, clearly getting tired of waiting for the band to settle down.

"No Joey, we're fine, aren't we guys?" Rachel said, her teeth clenching. Kurt could tell that Rachel was the most excited about the announcement; she usually was. It just gave her more camera time, and that was something she could never get enough of.

"Alright then. Rolling in 5, 4, 3..."

The five friends took a couple seconds to fix themselves before looking into the camera lens as Joey hit number 1.

"Hello, PamLan fans! First of all, we would like to start off by saying thank you to everyone supporting us on our North American tour! It truly means the world to us, and we can't wait to see you all there!" Elliott began the video. Kurt look a quick glance at Rachel, who already had her red-carpet smile across her face. He rolled his eyes, wondering if she knew how much she was over addressing this announcement.

"However, there is another special announcement we'd like to make," Dani continued, throwing the attention to Rachel, if it wasn't already.

"As you may know, we like to start things off big! So, we're happy to announce..."

"We're spending an entire month touring in California!" The entire band shouted together, as they cheered for themselves. Rachel began clapping and jumping up and down, as Santana raised her fists in the air and shouted some more.

"We've decided that before the real tour starts, we need to get used to being on the road with each other, and what better way to do that than in California?" Rachel continued, full of enthusiasm.

"Which just happens to be the state that produced porcelain over her," Santana pointed out, making Kurt blush a furious red. It had not been scripted for Santana to say that, so the sudden outburst surprised Kurt.

"So, if you live anywhere near the California area, be on the look out! Tickets are on sale soon for our additional shows!" Elliott explained, trying to take the attention off of Kurt. Everyone knew that he wasn't a big fan of being the center of attention on camera, which didn't really help considering it was his turn to speak.

"We'll also be going sight-seeing around the cites, and having surprise performances! So if you hear one of our songs playing from behind, you might want to turn around, because there's a chance we'll be performing right in front of you!"

"Or not. Then you'll just look stupid," Santana added, causing Rachel to abuse her, yet again.

"We're beginning this tour June 11th, so mark your calendars!" Dani mentioned. As she spoke, a slight _ding _sounded from her footwear. Dani blushed, pulling her devise from her boot. "Sorry guys, gotta take this!" As Dani left the camera view, which by the way, was also unscripted, Santana was soon to follow.

"Hold up, missy. You cannot just bail on this video to talk to your girlfriend!" She stormed after her, leaving Elliott, Kurt, and Rachel left to entertain their audience. Kurt wasn't surprised; at least one band member would leave during an announcement video, usually Santana or Dani. It was usually for the most ridiculous reasons, but the trio seemed to manage on their own.

"Don't worry, guys. That's totally scripted..." Kurt laughed, trying to fill the awkward silence.

"Anyway," Elliott pushed his way in between the two remaining band members. "We hope you'll look forward to seeing our pre-tour! This is PamLan, signing out!" Elliott finished the video, as Kurt and Rachel each waved at the camera before Joey turned it off.

"I suppose that there's no way we could redo that, is there?" Kurt worried out-loud, afraid that he might have looked foolish filling in for Dani and Santana.

"Unfortunately, no," Joey answered, causing Kurt to sigh. "We did plan to shoot two hours before the dead-line, however you all spent nearly double that time getting ready, so we're running behind schedule."

Rachel laughed at Kurt's still nervous expression as they, along with Elliott, headed over to the dressing room. "I still wonder how you can perform in front of thousands of people, yet the smallest of things make you nervous."

Kurt rolled his eyes in annoyance. "How many times do I have to tell you, Rach? I'm bashful when it comes to people. The only reason I don't hurl every time I'm on a stage is because the music calms me down."

"You think It'd be backwards. Music always wakes me up!" Elliott exclaimed, strumming on an air-guitar and making sound effects. Kurt swatted at his shoulder as they reached the dressing room. Inside, were the two other band members, who were packing their things into bags and throwing on their jackets.

"Are you sure you two will keep your hands off of each other while I'm over?" Santana asked Dani, giving her a knowing look. Kurt took notice of Dani's eyes rolling as she shoved the left sleeve of her coat over her shoulder.

"San, you have nothing to worry about. We're not going to start having sex in front of you. Unless you'd approve, that is." She sent Santana a wink, which resulted in a returning eyeroll from Santana.

"Where are you guys headed to?" Rachel questioned, walking over to her mirror to begin packing away her multiple beauty products. Rachel had the most skincare products Kurt had ever seen in his life, which is a lot to say, considering he was also obsessed in taking care of his skin. He had his own set of products, but Rachel had what seemed like _hundreds _of bottles full of creams and moisturizers.

"We're headed off to Kylie's for a ladies' night out," Santana explained, opening a tube of raspberry lip-gloss and applying it to her lips. "You're welcome to come, Berry," Santana paused, glancing over to Kurt and Elliott. "And I supposed you two could too. You're honorary ladies, after all."

"As great as that sounds," Kurt made his way to his own personal vanity. "I think I'll head back to Clovis. I haven't seen my dad in a while, so I think I'll spend the night there.

"Hate to be a buzzkill, but if Kurt isn't going, I don't want to be the only dude there. I'll just head home. I'm quite tired, anyway." Elliott grabbed his car keys off of the dressing table.

"Fine, losers, be that way. You'll miss all the fun. You coming, Rach?" Santana asked, and Rachel nodded.

"Yeah, just let me text Finn and let him know I'm not going home first." Rachel pulled out her phone and quickly texted a message to her boyfriend. Kurt looked around the room to see everyone elses heads also buried into their phone screens, so he took this opportunity to quietly leave. However, this didn't go unnoticed.

"Hey Kurt, don't forget to tell your dad I said hi," Elliott reminded. "I can't wait to finally meet him!"

Kurt spun around on his heels to face the other boy, eyes widened. "What?"

"I said, I can't wait to meet your dad, bro! We've never got the chance to meet him, and now that we're touring and all, maybe we could stop by, or spend the night there sometime!"

Kurt was speechless. He felt like such an idiot; _of coarse_ the rest of the band would want to visit his house and meet his family. But he never expected it to come so suddenly. He'd been able to keep them away from his house for almost three years, but now, he was running out of excuses. They were going to come over, sooner or later.

Kurt suddenly became aware that he had been staring at Elliott a little too long. "I, um, yeah. Okay I'll tell him. I'll see you guys later."

"Bye Kurt!" The three girls called out simultaneously, still looking at their phones. Ellliott waved goodbye as Kurt sped out of the dressing room and down the hall.

Great. Now they were expecting to get an invite to 'Kurt's childhood home.' Kurt already had enough to worry about as it was. He had been having serious sleeping problems. On a good day, er, night, he was lucky to get four hours of sleep. It wasn't that Kurt couldn't fall asleep; he very much could. He just couldn't _stay_ asleep. Every time he shut his bloodshot eyes and tried to get some rest, he would be waken nearly five minutes later from a nightmare. Or a memory. He couldn't tell the differance anymore.

Beside the point, Kurt needed to prepare for the upcoming visit. He needed to go home to his father and explain what a mess he'd made by not warning him sooner. Burt wouldn't be happy, but he'd understand, he'd help. He'd help because he knew.

He knew what Kurt didn't dare share with anyone else.

* * *

**I** **know there are some seemingly meaningless things in this chapter, but some of them will come to play later. So what did you guys think? Please leave me your reviews. I really want to see if you all like it:) I already have great things planned for this story, along with some unexpected turns, so let me know if I should continue! xx**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Chapter two is finally here! Sorry for the super long wait. I'm a pretty busy person, so my updates probably won't be very frequent. But I figured that I'd rather write fairly long, well-written chapters rather than short, sloppy ones. So next time, please remember that I haven't given up on this story! I'm most likely still writing it. Anyway, enjoy! xx**

First, Blaine needed to convince his parents that he was indeed upset about not going. This was all a ploy, of course. Blaine was going, and he was overjoyed in the fact that he was. Overjoyed wasn't even the right way to put it; he felt a rush of excitement throughout his whole body whenever thinking about leaving. Blaine had never faced his rebellious side before, and sneaking off to another state was certainly a way to introduce this part of him.

Second, he had to lie to Sam and his family. Surely Sam's parents wouldn't fly Blaine across the country if his parents didn't give the okay. The day after his dad had went-off on him, Blaine went to school and told Sam that his parents had said yes, which caused the blonde-haired boy to question him.

"Are you serious, dude? No offence or anything, but your parents never let you go to like, anything," Sam had said. This had made Blaine even angrier; even his friends saw how unfair his parents could be. He wondered if they all had a discussion about he and his family, where some not-so-nice words were probably said. Nevertheless, Blaine insisted that his parents were fine with the matter, but he warned Sam not to call his father or mother, saying that they were very busy with work and that if Sam's parents bothered them, they might not let him go after all.

Third, he needed a way to sneak out of the house, without being heard. Both his front and back doors were out of question, due to the fact that the hinges on both squeaked extremely loudly whenever you opened or closed either door. Luckily, Coach Beiste kept around twenty, long rope ladders in the gym storage room. On the last day of PE class, Blaine slipped into the storage room and stole the longest rope that Beiste had, hoping it would be long enough to cast out his window and safely climb down. To his luck once again, it was. Blaine had tested the rope late at night, right before junior graduation, and it fit perfectly between his second-story window and the hard ground below.

Now it was the morning he would sneak out, and just one problem remained: his luggage. Blaine had packed the previous night, afraid that his parents would find his readied suitcases before he got the chance to escape if he packed before then. But Blaine had spent hours puzzled as how he was going to get his four enormous suitcases safely out of his room without making the whole neighborhood wake up. He only found one solution.

"Hey Blaine! I'm here dude!" Puck's voice sounded from outside. Blaine had asked Puck to help him with his luggage, knowing that he would be the best one to ask for this sort-of task. In order to do this, Blaine had to explain to Puck that his parents had no clue that he was leaving, and that that was why he was about to send his bags flying out the window. Puck assured him that he could be trusted, and in fact even shot Blaine a proud look, as if he had influenced this risky action.

Blaine walked over to his window, looking down at Puck. "Dude, can you keep it down a little? I don't want you to wake up my parents."

Puck rolled his eyes. "Send 'em down, Anderson."

Blaine threw each suitcase down, each of them landing with a soft thud in Puck's muscled arms. With each suitcase also came a new slam from the boy, such as "Dang, Anderson, how much gel does a guy need?" or "I know you're gay and all, but you pack more suitcases than any girl I've ever met." Each comment simply made Blaine chuckle to himself, knowing that they were all true.

Now, everything was ready, except Blaine. He was dressed in his normal polo and capri-pant outfit, despite the warming weather outside, and his hair was freshly pulled back and gelled, but Blaine's mind was in ruins. Although he had planned perfectly well, he was still more nervous than he had ever been in his life. He knew that his parents would notice his absence, and probably be furious, but they wouldn't call to yell at him, or fly to California themselves. That, to them, would require too much time spent punishing him on their part. They would most likely wait until Blaine returned home to bash out on him, which made the wait all the more nerve-racking.

"Bro, hurry up in there! We're going to miss the flight if you keep moping," Puck called, growing impatient. Blaine sighed, knowing he was right; it was now or never. He took one last look around his bedroom before beginning his own descend from the window. When his feet finally landed on the grass, he let out a huge breath, realizing that his plan had actually worked.

"Coming or what?" Puck yelled, once again a little louder than Blaine would have liked.

"One sec, Puck." Blaine answered, pacing toward the bottom of the window. He pulled hard on the ladder, catching the other end of it once it came sailing down. He was certain that his father would be angered to find Blaine's escape route, if he wasn't angry enough from his son going missing. Blaine rolled up the ladder and jogged toward Puck's convertible.

"I have to admit," Puck began, as Blaine rested himself in the passenger seat and shut the door behind him. "I never took you as the badass type, Anderson. But this is a pretty badass thing to do."

Blaine grabbed his nearest suitcase to shove the ladder in while letting out a laugh. "Thanks, Puck. I'm really not the badass type, but getting that from you is a compliment, I suppose."

"You bet it is, dude. I don't just strut around giving those to people, so I suggest you cherish this moment." Puck started the engine, which made Blaine flinch. "Relax, Blaine. Your parents aren't going to just assume that you're running away from a car engine starting."

"I know, I'm just really nervous, 's all. Haven't you ever been nervous before? I mean, you do a ton of stunts like this. Don't you ever worry about. . . you know. . . getting caught?"

The Mohawk-sporting teen simply laughed. "I _have _been caught, remember? Multiple times. Sure, it's pretty damn scary, but it's worth it. The adrenaline rush I get, the reputation, the way people look at me. All of it."

"Whoa, slow down. This is more of a one-time thing, Puck. I'm not planning to do this again anytime soon." Blaine laughed, rolling his eyes at the other boy.

"Whatever, man. You know who to call if you ever decide to release your inner badass again."

Blaine bobbed his head toward the window, staring at the large houses as the vehicle drove through his neighborhood. He took careful notice to each house, noting the smallest of details. How every other house had a black mailbox, and the others had dark green ones. How the corner houses seemed wider then the ones next to them. How you could see the property lines of each house, by the length of the grass, and the occasional fence. Finally, he took note of the sign reading _Greyson Hills _at the entrance.

Something was going to be different when he returned. Blaine could feel it in his bones. The thought totally scared him, yet excited him greatly. This had nothing to do with his parents; obviously things with them would completely change. It was something else. Something huge. Something Blaine would never forget.

He wondered if this is why he decided to sneak out. Maybe this whole plan was leading up to something extraordinary. Blaine was a huge believer in fate. Well, he actually wasn't, until a certain band came into his life.

* * *

_"Help!" Blaine screamed. "Please, somebody help me!"_

_"Don't you get it, you little shit, nobody can hear your pleas. Nobody will help you," Steve laughed, punching Blaine roughly in the shoulder. The boy's father was drunk, as Blaine found that his breath smelt of whiskey and his eyes were bloodshot, pupils dilated. Nevertheless, each blow hit just as hard as it would if the man were sober, and his mother would stay locked in her room, as she always did, to avoid hearing the beating._

_Blaine felt like he had been crying for hours on end, when in reality, he had only returned home fifteen minutes ago. Fifteen minutes ago he had been fine; untouched, dry eyes, and only a few bruises left over from a previous beating he had received a week or so back. His mind, however, was another story. Blaine could already feel his father's fist connecting to his face on the bus ride home._

_Homeroom had started off as it usually did: Sam spouting a bad impression, Tina yammering on about a guy that she liked ( whom was usually, if not always, homosexual ) , and Blaine, tweeting about a new PamLan picture, trying to conceal his squeals. That day, it was a picture of Elliott and Kurt, just simply hanging out at the studio, which was almost enough to make Blaine drop his brand new iPhone out of his hands. Those two boys were the definition of perfect, especially Kurt. Blaine loved every band member, but he always had a soft-spot for Kurt. Maybe it was because of his perfectly styled hair, or perfectly colored eyes, or those skinny jeans that he wore. . ._

**_Yup, definitely the skinny jeans._**

_"Class, please settle down. Blaine, phone away when the bell rings please." Mrs. Bell, one of McKinley's two sophomore world geography teachers scolded, making her way to the front of the class. Blaine shyly slid his phone into his back pocket, turning his attention to the board. Mrs. Bell went on and on about the precipitation in Spain, or something in that nature. Blaine wasn't paying attention; he never did in this class. It was too close to the end of the school day to focus, and with the picture Blaine had just been drooling over, his mindset clearly wasn't centered around rain._

_The sounding of the final bell made Blaine jolt awake from his beautiful daydream about a beach date with Kurt, right as they were about to kiss. Blaine sighed, slightly annoyed at the PA system before realizing that it was probably a good thing that the bell had stopped his thoughts. From where things were headed. . ._

_Let's just say Blaine was happy to have been cooled off._

_"Don't forget to grab your first semester report card from the table on your way out, everyone. I already emailed all of your parents, so they know it's coming home with you today. Don't even try to throw them away, and that means you, Mr. Nelson."_

_Blaine shoved past a groaning Rick Nelson, reaching for the envelope with his name printed on it in bold letters. He set off down the hallway, tearing open the flimsy paper, confidant that he would receive straight A's, as he always did. His report card, however, did not bring this expected news. Checking down his report card, Blaine's small grin turned into a mortified, gaping face as he reached the final class on the list._

**_World Geo. Soph Course, Session 1: B_**

_Blaine's breathing became uneven as he nearly sprinted toward the school bus, shoving anyone in his path. This couldn't be happening. Blaine Anderson, the straight A student couldn't have gotten a B. There was no way. Impossible._

_Blaine took the very back seat of the bus, earning some questioning glances from students around him, as he usually sat near the front. But not today. Sitting near the front would mean he would exit the bus quicker, and Blaine did not want to go home._

_The lowest grade he has ever gotten on a report card was an A-, and even that had made his parents angry and disappointed. But a B. . . He didn't even want to imagine what would happened once his marks were shown to his father._

_Everyone seemed to have their eyes glued on Blaine, all shooting him worried looks. Or were they disappointed? Blaine knew that they were disappointed. Everyone already knew. He was sure of it._

_Blaine huddled his knees to his chest, staring out the floor the entire ride. His breaths were sharp and uneven, but quiet enough to go unnoticed by most of his schoolmates. He was paranoid, he thought. Nobody on the bus knew of his grades other than him. No matter how many times he told himself this, he couldn't bring himself to believe it._

_That bus ride was both the longest and shortest of the teen's life. He wanted it all to end; for the disgracing, terrible thoughts to leave his head and never return, but he also wanted to retreat on the small bus for the rest of his existence, never having to face the wrath of his father. Life was unfair._

**_Life was unfair._**

_Blaine thought of the same statement as he received the third blow from his father. One of his cheeks had turned a deep red from the ongoing impact, however, he had lost feeling in this part of his body by the second punch. Blaine was weak. You'd think that after getting hit so many times, that your body would grow a tolerance for it. If only. . ._

_"I give you everything! I give you a home, feed you, raise you, even pay that blasted phone bill of yours." Steve's eyes widen at the thought of Blaine's mobile, which earned the boy a forceful kick in the shin. "I bet that's it, isn't it? You spend so much time looking at that faggy band of yours that you don't give your studies the time of day!"_

_"N-No sir, they have nothing to do with my grades! Things have just. . . gotten harder. So much harder. I promise to try more, father. Please, let me go," Blaine cried, not daring to look into his father's drunken eyes. He'd been scared of the reaction of his sober guardian, not expecting for his father to have had a few drinks._

_"Don't talk back to me, boy." Blaine's father pinned him against the wall by the front tussles of the boy's hair, breathing heavily onto his neck. This was it, Blaine thought. His father would draw his blood. It was a rare occurrence to do so, but Blaine could tell by the dark look in the man's eyes that he wished to. Just then, there was a knocking at the door._

_"Shitting fuck, who the hell is that?" Steve growled in anger, releasing his grasp from Blaine's hair. "Go up to your room. Don't make a fucking sound up there, do you hear me?" Blaine quickly nodded a yes before scampering off to his room, locking the door behind him, sending himself a mental reminder to ask who was at the door later on. He would have to thank them in his future prayers._

_It was only a matter of seconds of being in his room before Blaine noticed the blood dripping from his leg. His father's shoe buckle must have caught his skin. Blaine dug through his drawers until his hands found his half-used roll of gauze._

**_Ding!_**

_Blaine's phone went off as soon as he finished tending to his newly acquired wound. For the first time in a while, he was scared to check the notification, in fear that it might be his father telling him to return down stairs. Hesitantly, Blaine picked up his phone and flipped it over so that the screen was facing him._

**_PamelaLansburyOfficial via Twitter: I felt the need to make this today...Enjoy :) -Kurt_**

_A link to a Youtube video followed the tweet. Blaine smiled for the first time since he had received his report card. He needed an escape from his hell of a reality, one that only a certain band member could provide. Still grinning wildly, Blaine unlocked his phone and tapped on the underlined blue link._

_It didn't take long for the buffering bar to be replaced with a bashful Kurt Hummel, wearing a red sweater scattered with holes, complemented with a creamy white undershirt. Despite 3/5 members of the band being female, Kurt had always been proclaimed as the most fashionable of the bunch. Blaine had known that if Kurt hadn't made it as an entertainer, he would've made his mark in the world of fashion and style._

_"H-Hi everyone," Kurt stuttered. "There is no way to explain this without making myself sound utterly strange. . ._

_"But after recording in the studio today, I had this urge to make a video. This video. I normally don't talk much about my personal life, and yes, I'm trying to loosen up a bit, just for you guys. What I'm about to tell you is very personal. In fact, it changed my life forever." Kurt took a deep breath. Blaine noticed that when Kurt did actually talk, he tended to run on and on. It was kind-of adorable._

_"So here it goes. This is the story about how I found Pamela Lansbury. Or rather, how they found me."_

_Blaine watched the small, glowing screen in awe as Kurt shared his story, his heart quickly picking up pace. How the boy closed the video seemed to make Blaine's heart sink deeper into his chest more than it ever had before._

_"So for all of you watching. . . no matter what situation, no matter how hard life is, or how far your dreams seem to be from you, don't loose hope. If you don't stop believing in yourself, then one day you'll find that miracles happen in everyday life. I can't imagine where I would be without the band, and without all of you guys. You all mean the world to me, each and every one of you. Never forget to believe. I'm a big believer in fate. Keep hope, and stay strong." Kurt gave a little wave to the camera before the screen went black._

_Tears were rolling down Blaine's cheeks at a rapid pace. He had taken Kurt's words to heart more than he ever thought he would. It was as if he had been speaking directly toward him, and no one else. As if he knew that there was a boy out there somewhere who needed the encouragement to keep going._

_He suddenly became a big believer in fate himself._

* * *

"Uh Blaine. . . Anyone home in there?" Puck knocked on Blaine's skull teasingly, knocking Blaine out of his gorgeous daydream. "We're at the airport, dude."

"W-What? The airport? That was fast." Blaine took attention to the view outside, which had seemed to change magically from the outskirts of his neighborhood to the Fort Wayne airport. Blaine was amazed; the drive from Westerville to Fort Wayne was over an hour. Had he been spacing out for that long?

"How much did you sleep last night, bro? You're lookin' a little loopy over there." Puck pulled into an empty parking spot, bringing the car to a full stop.

"Don't know. . . maybe two, three hours?" Blaine replied, coincidentally yawning. The anticipation had been too much to let Blaine fall asleep easily. He had slept for a short while at a time, waking up not an hour later. In total, out of this cycle, he had gotten almost three hours of rest, if you could even call it that.

Puck laughed, stepping out of the car. "Nerves, huh? Man, I can remember when I used to get those. . . good times." Blaine mimicked his friend's actions before punching his shoulder gently.

"Shut up, Puck. Not everyone's a badass like you." Puck merely laughed, beginning to unload the many suitcases from the back. Only one really belonged to himself, though. And it was no where near the size of Blaine's biggest piece of luggage, which, by the looks of it, was three-times the size of Puck's tiny suitcase. It must have contained something delicate or valuable, because as soon as Blaine laid eyes on the massive bag, he sprinted toward it.

"Be careful with that one! It's really important." Blaine snatched the suitcase away from Puck, setting it gently on the ground.

"Important as in your life savings or as in your entire bow tie collection?" Blaine received a knowing smirk from the other boy, which only made his eyes roll even further back in his head.

"Gel, actually."

Puck snorted, picking up half of Blaine's bags on top of his own. "You're lucky we're late, Anderson. Or else you'd be stuck carrying your own shit."

Blaine trotted along Puck's side, lugging his remaining bags. It had been irresponsible of him to take so long this morning, but that wasn't the first thing on Blaine's mind. The feeling of abnormality from the drive to the airport had not gone away. If anything, it had grown stronger. He was becoming even more nervous about the travel, if that was even probable. Blaine had never flown in an airplane before, if that had anything to do with it. His parents had always insisted on driving everywhere, which made for long, boring road trips. . .

"Dude, you seriously need to sleep on the plane. I've never seen someone sleep walk before, but it sure looks like you're about to." Puck popped Blaine's daydreaming bubble, as it seemed they had miraculously already made it to the security check point. Blaine shook his head as a dog would, in hopes of fully waking up.

"Yeah, I probably should doze off on the flight. As long as you guys promise not to draw anything on my face. . ."

"You've got no promise from me!" Puck laughed, stepping into the security scan. This was going to be a long flight.

Because the best way to welcome California is for a dick and a mustache to be drawn on your face.

* * *

"_Two times a day, two pills._" Kurt thought as he stared into his bathroom mirror, having just swallowed his nightly medication. His reoccurring sleep problem had only seemed to get worse; so bad, in fact, that he almost fell asleep at the wheel on the way to his father's house. Burt had insisted that he see a doctor, who later prescribed him sleep medication pills. He took two in the morning, which were supposed to help him stay awake, and two different pills before bed, which were supposed to help him sleep. Kurt had decided on taking them early tonight, since the rest of the band was coming over.

Kurt was still uneasy over people being in his home. Even after talking with his dad about it, who was super helpful and supporting, he still got the chills every time he thought about it. He eyed his reflection in the reflective surface, going over his checklist.

_Hide all childhood pictures. Check._

_Put away all trophies and awards. Check._

_Take the yearbook from my bookshelf and put it in the box under my bed. . ._

Kurt's eyes widened as he realized that he had forgotten the most important step. He dashed out of the bathroom and straight to his bedroom, headed to his bookshelf. The darned thing had to be there somewhere. . .

_Bingo._

A fairly thin, blue and red cover flashed across Kurt's line of vision. He quickly grabbed the book and gently moved his hand across his old school's crest on the cover. He questioned why he kept the old thing out in plain sight almost every day, but he couldn't bring himself to put it away. Part of his life was in that book. Even if it wasn't an overall good part, there were some things that he wanted to remember. And some that he defiantly wanted to forget. . .

_Ding Dong!_

The sound of the doorbell ringing nearly made Kurt jump three feet in the air. He scurried down the floor, pulling out a large, rectangular box from under his bed. He rushed to place the yearbook inside, covering it with other items in the box in case his friends decided to be nosy. Pushing the box back under the bed, he stood to his feet, brushed himself off, and headed for the front door.

"Kurtie!" Rachel was the first of the four to greet him, pulling him into a tight hug. She had always been the closest to him, due to their similar interests and hobbies outside of the band.

"Rachel," Kurt choked out. "Did you plan on strangling me before even stepping foot inside?"

Rachel let go with a laugh, and let Kurt be greeted by his three other band mates. Once they were all inside, Kurt shut the door with a smile. Perhaps this wouldn't be as bad as he predicted. Despite his constant worrying and hesitation, the other four members really did calm him down a bit. They gave him a sense of comfort that reminded him of the past. The _good _past. Imagining living a life without them seemed almost impossible. Kurt didn't even want to think about it. The only memories that Kurt enjoyed remembering at all were of his mother, and of events that happened after that rainy day at the diner, where his life and changed forever.

* * *

_"You haven't forgotten to refill the salt shakers again, have you? I remember that you have in the past, especially on Wednesdays. . ."_

_"Yes, Gunther. The salt shakers are filled to the brim." Kurt rolled his eyes at his boss. He was always reminding him what to do, as if he were a young child. Well, he was the youngest employee there. And sometimes he did need a little reminding._

_"Great. You're free to leave, Kurt. Or rather stay. . . "_

_Kurt never left when his shift ended on Wednesday nights. Wednesday nights were the best out of the entire week. Known as 'The Spotlight Diner's Open Mic Night,' the evenings were Kurt's only chance of performing ever since he had moved. Kurt's shift ended toward the end of the diner's open hours, so he had to hurriedly change to make in on stage. He usually made it just in time to be the last act, as he insisted on looking flawless before stepping onto the small platform to sing._

_However, this time, it was different. When Kurt made his way out of the back room, the sign-up list was being carried away. He looked at the fellow employee taking the sign, who only shrugged in return and disappeared into the back room._

_Kurt could almost hear his heart drop out of his chest and onto the cold, hard floor. This was the only highlight of his week; It had always been. But this week had been particularly hard as it was. His father had fallen ill, and Kurt had been worried throughout the past few days that the man might have another heart attack. He needed to be cheered up, and cheering up was something only music could do for him._

_Searching to find an empty seat, Kurt sat down with two other employees, sighing deeply. If he couldn't make the music, he might as well listen, right?_

_"Hey porcelain, you're looking down. Did something happen?" The tan-skinned workmate asked, a slight grin forming across her lips._

_"It's nothing, really," Kurt replying fingering the buttons on his shirt. "Just personal stuff."_

_"Aren't you performing tonight?" The paler workmate questioned. "Santana and I have only been working here for a couple weeks, but I always love hearing you sing. You're really good."_

_Kurt blushed, taken aback by the compliment. "T-Thank you. I usually do perform every week, but the last spot was filled tonight. I suppose that's why I'm upset." He looked over to the stage, where a middle aged woman was taking her place as the crowd's applause for the previous act faded. Behind her stood a boy about his age, only much more flamboyant. He was dressed in all black; black jeans, black boots, black trench coat. Hell, the boy was even wearing a black top hat, which hid is dyed-black hair fairly well. He must be the closing act._

_"Wait, did **he **take the last spot?" The tanned girl, Santana, Kurt assumed, motioned in the direction of the boy, in which Kurt slowly nodded. "Figures," she mused, holding back a slight chuckle. "He's always been one to steal the spotlight." _

_Kurt gave her a questioning look. "What she means is," the other girl took over. "He's our friend. And that we could talk to him if you wanted."_

_Kurt shook his head. He couldn't take a performance spot from someone. "No, that's alright. I-" _

_Before he could finish, the two girls were waving the boy over. "Hey Elliott, think you could make a last minute arrangement?"_

_"I have somewhere around fifty songs buzzing through my head right now, Rachel. Of course I could." The boy, now known as Elliott, laughed. "One of you two decide to join me after all?"_

_"Glitter, meet Porcelain. Porcelain, meet Glitter. You two are singing together." Santana shoved Kurt in Elliott's direction, much to his protest._

_"H-Hi I'm-" Kurt was cut off yet again, but this time by the loud cheering of the crowd. The act had finished._

_"No time, we're up!" Elliott grabbed Kurt's hand, pulling him to the stage. "How well do you know The Darkness?" Kurt had heard of the band before, though he only knew a few songs. He let the other boy know of his knowledge level before the boy whispered something to the band and stepped forward to one of the empty microphones. Kurt followed, silently praying that this wouldn't be his first failing performance._

_As soon as the guitar chords played out through the diner, Kurt knew that the duet would be a sure success._

_"**Can't explain all the feelings that you're making me feel**_

_**My heart's in overdrive and you're behind the steering wheel.**"_

_Elliott's voice was spectacular and already had the crowd standing in excitement. Oddly, Kurt didn't feel nervous at the slightest when it was his turn to sing._

_"**Touching you ooh ooh ooh ooh**_

_**Touching me ee ee ee ee**_

_**Touching you, God you're touching me.**"_

_The crowd was instantly in love with the pair, screaming the lyrics along with them throughout the rest of the song. The boys jumped all over the stage, full of energy and adrenaline. Kurt smiled wide as the song came to an end. They were a hit._

_Elliott held out his hand as the crowd finished cheering, speaking over the other loud voices. "I'm Elliott."_

_"Kurt," he smiled wider, taking the offered hand and raising them both into the air. He felt as if he were on top of the world._

_Little did he know, that very incident would cause him to truly be on top._

* * *

Kurt smiled at the memory, one of the best ones his brain withheld. After he and Elliott's hit performance, he had been formally introduced to the girls at the diner, as well as Dani, all of whom were very impressed at the chemistry they had seen as the two boys performed. Later that night, after a round of ice cream, Kurt had been asked to join his newly acquired friends' band, in which he couldn't refuse.

"Uh, Kurt? You okay? You're kinda spacing out on us," Dani teasingly waved a hand in front of Kurt's face, snapping him out of his daze and back into reality, where his four band mates stood, looking at his with curious eyes.

Right, he had guests to entertain.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Just some notes for this story:**

**Any songs that PamLan sing are their songs in this story, other than I Believe In a Thing Called Love and Get Into The Groove. This goes until otherwise noticed. **

**I have changed the warning on this story, as some topics and events might be offensive to some readers. If you think they might offend you, check the warning in the beginning of this story. You have been warned.**

**Enjoy xx**

* * *

_Kurt didn't need eyes on the back of his head to know that he was being stared at. Sure, it was the first day of sophomore year, and yes, he was in an all-junior calculus class, but the weight of the eyes that were focused on him seemed unbearable. Almost as if someone was doing a little more than staring._

_Despite being at a private school with a no bulling policy, Kurt couldn't help but being self conscious. At his old high school, he was constantly taunted, whether it be for his sexually, his voice, or his clothes. There was barely anything about him that deemed a compliment, and it took the nicest people to do just that._

_Kurt wanted to be strong. He wanted to pretend that being shoved into lockers and going for an occasional dumpster-dive were merely daily experiences, and nothing to make a fuss over. Of course, Burt Hummel had a different view. Once he heard word on the bullying that occurred at his son's school, the garage owner spent the majority of his personal savings for his son to attend private school; one that had a zero tolerance level for bullying, at that._

_The policy had definitely made Kurt feel safer as he stepped foot into the new school, but wherever there were rules, there were bound to be rule breakers. Any free second Kurt had seemed to be an opportunity to scope out the fresh group of students; judging which boys he could consider safe and which boys he should keep a safe distance from. So far, the majority of the students seemed welcoming and cheery. All except one. . ._

_And that one happened to be sitting just a few seats in front, diagonal from where Kurt's desk was in his first block class._

_Kurt was never usually one to judge by first appearances, but this boy's demeanor and looks definitely spelt out trouble. All students were required to choose their clothing from a list of uniforms, including sweaters, blazers, and of course long, gray dress slacks. But this boy had the sleeves of his blazer rolled up to his elbows, and had already managed to skin a hole in his pants. His shoes were scuffed, his hair frayed and spiked, and his face. . ._

_Multiple cut marks raged along the outer edges of both eyebrows. A nearly faded bruise lay just below his jawline, barely visible. And his eyes. . ._

_His eyes were staring right at him._

_Staring?_

_No, Glaring._

_Kurt quickly looked down at his desk, trying the erase the boy's intense gaze from his mind, but it wouldn't go away. His eyes had seemingly pierced through his skin, and the thought terrified Kurt._

_He cleared his throat and looked up at the whiteboard, only to catch a glimpse of the boy's eyes yet again. Why was he still staring? There had to be something better to do._

_"Mr. Pierce, turn around please," Mr. Wryte, the school's calculus teacher, scolded. The boy smirked at Kurt before adjusting his position to face front._

_The smirk was what told Kurt that he was in trouble. It was what he recognized as 'The Bully Smirk'. It hadn't taken Kurt long to figure out that those were the only smirks he was ever given in school. And sometimes, they could be nearly lethal._

_The rest of class was spent going over and receiving the class syllabus, and of course more bully smirks. Kurt let out a sigh of relief as the bell rang, rushing to collect his things and bolt out of the door. He was a only a few paces away, when a hand attached itself to his shoulder. He didn't have to turn around to know who it was._

_"Hey, what's your name?" The boy flashed a false grin, his eyes dark and menacing._

_"K-Kurt."_

_"I'm Myers." Myers leaned in closer to whisper in Kurt's ear. "Remember that, because you'll be using it a lot from now on."_

_With a wink, Myers released Kurt and walked out of the class room, leaving Kurt mortified. Myers certainly wasn't planning to leave him alone anytime soon. The only reason he would want him to remember his name was so that the face in his nightmares would have a name._

_But then again, Kurt could be rid of Myers with the snap of his fingers. All he had to do was report him to a teacher, and he'd be suspended. Of course, he'd have to do something resembling bullying first, but Kurt knew that wouldn't take long._

_Kurt walked out of the classroom and to his locker, a small grin on his face. He really was safe here. This school was his safety raft in a sea full of bullies. Once he got home, he'd have to thank his dad yet again for paying for private school. Maybe he'd make him his favorite dinner. . ._

_Kurt's face fell as the realization hit. His dad had forked over his hard-earned money to get him here. One word of bullying, and he'd pull him out. Kurt couldn't fathom going to another public school. There were so many more bullies there, and so fewer rules. After all, dealing with one bully was better than dealing with ten._

_Sighing, Kurt spun the dial of his locker, collecting his PE uniform and heading toward the gymnasium. A short distance in front of him, Myers was walking with three of his friends, whom where all sporting PE uniforms._

_This was going to be a long year._

* * *

_"WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS, MY FRIENDS!"_

_"AND WE'LL KEEP ON FIGHTING, 'TIL THE END!"_

Kurt woke up to the sound of four voices singing extremely loudly. He opened his eyes and saw his best friends, mere inches away from his face, belting out the song at the top of their lungs.

_"WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS! WE ARE THE CHA- oomph!"_

Before Rachel could sing another word, Kurt had his hand covering her mouth. "Did you really have to wake me up by screaming in my face?" He grumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with his free hand.

"Good morning to you, too," Elliott chuckled, moving back from Kurt with the other three band members. "We wanted to wake you up in a special way. Today's a very special day after all."

Removing his hand from Rachel's mouth, Kurt felt around his nightstand for his glasses, grabbing them and putting them into place. "We Are The Champions? Really?"

Elliott shrugged. "That's kinda what we are, especially today. Our tour starts in a few hours, dude!"

"Our summer tour, El. Around California, not the world. I don't think we've won the champion title yet." Kurt sat up, stretching his arms a bit. He hadn't had so much of a fitful night, but it was uncomfortable, nonetheless.

He had still dreamed. And whenever Kurt dreamt, it was never pleasing.

He was always back in high school again. Or at his old house. Or back at that night. . .

And he was always there.

Myers.

"Maybe you all haven't, but this bitch is the biggest champion of all," Santana smirked, climbing off of Kurt's bed. "Now if you'll all excuse me, I'm going to see if Kurt's dad has made us all the breakfast of champions."

"Please, my dad's idea of 'Breakfast of Champions' is a Coke and two Slim Jims," Kurt laughed along with the rest of his bandmates. Burt Hummel was never the healthiest eater. His previous ownership of a tire shop had made him a busy man, which also caused him to pay less attention to his diet. Unfortunately, this had led him to a small heart attack during Kurt's junior year of high school. Luckily, after a few days of hospitalization and a few weeks on bed rest, Burt was fine. Kurt had made a point to his father to watch his eating habits, especially when he was away on tour and unable to monitor the man's plate himself, although he had no doubt he would slip-up quite a few times.

"I'll have you know, I've been substituting soda for milk for the last year," a deep voice rang out from the doorway. The band turned their heads to see none other than Burt there himself, a spatula in hand and an apron covering his flannel shirt.

"Yeah, for breakfast. You drink at least a pack of soda every week, dad." Burt laughed as the whites of his son's eyes showed. He had always been quite the eye roller, as was his mother.

"I suppose that means you five don't want the pancakes I just whipped up for you, then? They're blueberry. . ."

Kurt was out the door in seconds. Blueberry pancakes were his weakness.

He quickly rushed into the kitchen and grabbed an empty plate from the pile on the table, settling himself into a dining chair. He served himself some pancakes. Well, more than some. Maybe a lot.

Snatching the syrup next to the prepared stack of pancakes, Kurt doused his breakfast in the sugary substance. For someone who always warned his father about eating well, he sure was a hypocrite when it came to breakfast.

Licking his lips, he brought his fork to his mouth, sighing in bliss as the first mouthful of pancakes hit his taste buds. This day was off to a great start, and would only get better.

* * *

"Maybe there's a chance you'll catch one of their surprise street shows?"

"No, Tina. There's no way I'll get that lucky. Going to a real PamLan concert would've been a dream come true, and now there's no chance of it happening."

To say Blaine was upset would be an understatement. He was devastated, hurt, and most of all, mad at himself. He had slept through the entire flight. Of course, Puck hadn't missed out on the chance to draw on his face. Surprisingly, all he had written was 'I Love Kurt,' which Blaine didn't mind much, seeing as he did indeed love Kurt.

The flight wasn't the only thing he had slept through. Tickets for Pamela Lansbury had gone on sale whilst Blaine was snoozing, and there was no doubt that they had sold out within the first hour. More likely in the first ten minutes.

"Hey," Tina walked over to Blaine, sitting next to him on the couch and putting a hand on his knee. "California has lots to offer. I'm sure we'll have a good time, no matter what."

"You don't understand how much I wanted to go to that concert, T," Blaine sighed, slumping back in his seat. "I've been wanting to see then in person ever since I saw their first Youtube video. And this was my only opportunity... Now it's gone."

Tina looked at her best friend sadly. She knew how much Blaine was in love with that band; how much time he put into simply just being a fan. She couldn't help but feel like him being upset was her fault.

"I should've thought about the tickets. I was awake the whole flight. I could've gotten them for you."

Blaine shook his head. "No, Tina. This isn't your fault. You didn't know they were going on sale."

"I should've-" Before Tina could mutter another world, Blaine gripped her shoulders and looked her in the eyes with a stern stance.

"Tina Cohen-Chang. You are the best friend in the world, and I refuse to let you believe that this was your fault." Blaine demanded, smiling from one corner of his mouth.

"Okay, fine. But I still wish I could do something. You know that there's nothing I love more than seeing a smile on your face."

"Flirting with me now, are we?" Blaine winked, sporting a cheeky grin. They always had the tendency to flirt with one another, despite Blaine being gay.

"Oh shut it, you," Tina laughed, fake-punching the boy's arm. Blaine's puppy-dog pout after the impact made her giggle even more.

"You're so mean to me."

"You know you love me."

"Yes I do." Before Tina could respond, Blaine had his arms wrapped around her neck, placing a wet, sloppy kiss on her cheek.

"Ew, gross!" She shoved him away, which only made Blaine latch onto her even tighter, pulling her into a tight hug.

"I love you Tina Renee Cohen-Chang."

"And despite your horrible kissing skills, I love you, Blaine Devon Anderson." Blaine hummed, placing his chin on Tina's shoulder as they swayed back and forth. Suddenly, there was another voice filling the room.

"Whoa, sorry. Didn't mean to... uh... interrupt anything..." Sam bit his lip, walking backwards through the door he entered in, slowly.

Blaine laughed. "What do you need, Sam?"

"I was just making my way around to tell everyone that we're going sight-seeing around LA today before the big day tomorrow." Sam said, walking back into the room.

"Big day?" Blaine asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah! The concert's tomorrow, dude!" Sam playfully knocked on Blaine's forehead. "Anyone home?"

"Sam... what are you talking about? You never told us anything about a concert," Tina said, lowering Sam's arm with her hand.

"What?" Sam said, becoming confused. "Didn't I tell you?" Tina and Blaine both shook their heads. "Oops, must've forgot. I got us three tickets for the Pamela Lansbury concert tomorrow night!"

Blaine's jaw drop, his spirit immediately lifted. "You what?!"

Sam smiles proudly, happy to have surprised his friends. "Yeah, I bought them on the flight when you were sleeping. I figured you'd want to go. You do, don't you?"

Blaine hugged Sam tight with excitement. "Are you kidding? I'd love to go! Oh my god, I can't believe this! This is amazing! Thank you so much, Sam! This is going to be so great..." He rambled on, caught up in the reality of actually seeing his idols in real life.

Under Blaine's fanboying, Tina whispered to Sam. "Thank you so much. Blaine was just telling me how upset he was about missing ticket sales before you came in. This means the world to him, as you can clearly see."

Sam grinned. "If you think this reaction is amusing, just wait until I tell him that I got us VIP passes."

Tina's eyes widened. "You mean..."

Sam nodded, still keeping his voice a soft whisper. "Yup. Blaine's going to meet them in person."

* * *

The screams of thousands of fans echoing from the arena could not be heard over the sound of Kurt's racing heart. The show hadn't even started yet and he was already pouring sweat. His vocal cords already felt dry, despite drinking three full bottles of water. To put it simply, he was nervous. Very nervous.

PamLan had performed before, but usually in front of small crowds, or over the internet. This was the band's first big show, and damn, the crowd didn't disappoint. An entire arena was completely full with fans, cheering and waiting for Kurt, Elliott, Santana, Rachel, and Dani to take the stage. It was a lot to take in, especially for Kurt, who had only started his performing career a number of years back.

"Nervous?" A friendly hand grabbed Kurt's shoulder. "There sure are a lot of people out there."

"I'll say. I knew we had a fan base, but I never thought there'd be this many..."

Elliott chuckled. "Me neither. And for our first show, too."

Kurt sighed, placing his gaze on the ground. Other than himself, Kurt knew that Elliott was probably the most nervous out of the band. The first song they were performing featured both him and the black-haired lad. If performing in front of thousands didn't make them jittery, this sure did.

"Who would've thought a bunch of misfits singing songs on the internet and doing gigs in diners could make it this far?" Kurt joked, tugging nervously at the collar on his shirt.

"Hey, look." Elliott grabbed Kurt's shoulders with his hands, looking at him with a sense of calmness. "Don't be so scared. I'm sure that once we get on stage, and the music starts, we'll forget any fears we ever had about tonight. Okay?"

Kurt was so incredibly blessed to have people like Elliott in his life. Even throughout times like this, El always kept his cool. It was one of his most admirable qualities.

"I hope you're right."

Elliott winked. "I'm always right."

Suddenly, stage workers flooded the area, telling everyone to get to their places. This was it.

Kurt took his place at the end of the line, followed by Rachel, Elliott, Santana, and Dani. He took his microphone from one of the crew members, gripping it tightly with his still sweaty hands. Glancing at his bandmates, he caught a wink from Santana, followed by her mouthing the words _Don't mess up, porcelain._ Kurt rolled his eyes, smirking back at her.

It all happened so fast. Already, the platform they were standing on started to rise up. The screaming of fans progressively got louder. Kurt's heart soared.

But nothing prepared any of the five for what was soon to come.

The music started to play before the band reached the top. Kurt took one last deep breath before bringing the mic to his lips.

_**And you can dance**_

_**For inspiration**_

The screaming followed by the first few lines nearly blew his eardrums out. But it was worth it. It all was.

_**Come on**_

_**I'm waiting!**_

The music paused, and at last, the real stage came into view. All Kurt could see were rows and rows of fans; some holding up signs, others taking pictures and videos with their phones. Kurt couldn't help but smile wide as he took it all in. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the others were doing the same. Before he knew it, the music returned from its break, and Kurt turned around to sing his solo.

_**Get into the groove**_

_**Boy, you've got to prove**_

_**Your love to me, yeah**_

_**Get up on your feet, yeah**_

_**Step to the beat**_

_**Boy, what will it be?**_

Elliott had been right. As soon as Kurt sang the first note, all of his cares, worries, and thoughts drifted away. All that mattered was doing what he loved: performing. The others turned around to sing back-up for the next lines.

_**Music can be such a revelation**_

_**Dancing around you, feel the sweet sensation**_

_**We might be lovers if the rhythm's right**_

_**I hope this feeling never ends tonight**_

Kurt continued dancing around the stage as Elliott stepped out of line, taking the lead, with Rachel singing back-up.

_**Only when I'm dancing can I feel this free**_

_**(At night) I lock the doors so no one else can see**_

_**I'm tired of dancing here all by myself**_

_**(Tonight) I wanna dance with someone else**_

Kurt didn't fail to provide his signature hip swivel as the two sang, making some girls (and boys) in the front row nearly faint. Smiling even wider, Kurt took the lead for the chorus as the rest of the band stepped forward.

_**Get into the groove**_

_**Boy, you've got to prove**_

_**Your love to me, yeah**_

_**Get up on your feet, yeah**_

_**Step to the beat**_

_**Boy, what will it be?**_

Again, Kurt sang alone.

_**Gonna get to know you in a special way**_

_**This doesn't happen to me every day**_

_**Don't try to hide it, love wears no disguise**_

_**I see the fire burning in your eyes**_

Again, Elliott stepped up with Rachel.

_**Only when I'm dancing can I feel this free (feel this free)**_

_**At night I lock the doors, where no one else can see**_

_**I'm tired of dancing here all by myself (all by myself)**_

_**(Tonight) I wanna dance with someone else**_

Kurt and Rachel took the next chorus, Kurt still singing the lead part.

_**Get into the groove**_

_**Boy, you've got to prove**_

_**Your love to me**_

_**Yeah**_

_**Get up on your feet, yeah**_

_**Step to the beat**_

_**Boy, what will it be?**_

_**Yeah**_

Kurt and Elliott harmonized together for the next part, standing back to back as they danced suggestively. Teasing their fans was so much fun.

_**Live out your fantasy here, with me**_

_**Just let the music set you free**_

_**Touch my body and move in time**_

_**Now I know, you're mine**_

_**Now I know, you're mine**_

Rachel, Dani, and Santana all joined in to finish off the song.

_**Now I know, you're mine**_

_**Now I know, you're mine**_

_**Now I know, you're mine**_

_**[Kurt:] You've got to**_

_**Get into the groove**_

_**Boy, you've got to prove**_

_**Your love to me, yeah**_

_**Get up on your feet, yeah**_

_**Step to the beat**_

_**Boy, what will it be?**_

_**[Kurt:] You've got to**_

_**Get into the groove**_

_**Boy, you've got to prove**_

_**Your love to me, yeah**_

_**Get up on your feet, yeah**_

_**Step to the beat**_

_**Boy, what will it be?**_

_**[Kurt:] You've got to**_

_**Get into the groove**_

The crowd went absolutely wild as the song came to and end. The five band members held hands, raising them in the air to soak in the applause that seemed to never end. Kurt felt as if he was on top of the world.

This was going to be a fantastic tour.

* * *

**A/N: Again, sorry with the extemely slow updates. I have lots of things going on in my life, and this story really doesn't get the time it deserves. Please don't forget to comment! Reviews really do mean a lot. xx**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: It's finally here!**

**I would just like to say that despite Glee ending, I will be continuing to write about Klaine. I'm currently working on a new piece, as well as rewriting another and doing this one. I really hope that you guys will stick around to read them! And please, don't hesitate to put a kind review in the review section. They mean lots. Without further delay, here's the next chapter.**

* * *

Sam sat down on yet another store chair, waiting outside of yet another dressing room for Blaine to try on yet another outfit. To say he was bored was an understatement.

"Are you sure Tina?" Blaine turned around, checking out the pair of tight skinny jeans in the store mirror. "They don't make my ass look too... big?"

"Blaine, they make you look _hot_!" Tina reassured. "Not even Kurt Hummel himself could turn his head away."

"Maybe I should try the super skinnies... Or maybe these in red? Do I look good in red?" Blaine asked worriedly.

"You look amazing in red! You'd look great in any color, Blaine." Tina squeezed his shoulder, giving him a smile which was returned.

"Thanks, T. Now, I should probably try on every color just to make sure I pick the ones that look best..."

"Oh, come on!" Sam snapped, rolling his eyes. "We've been in this store for almost two hours!"

"You better calm down, Sam. We still have five more stops to make after here."

"Five? You've got to be kidding!" The blonde threw hands in the air. "You can't drag me around shopping all day! I agreed to come only on the terms that we go to that amazing fried chicken place after."

Tina rolled her eyes, "And we will. Promise."

"By the time you two are done, the mall will be closing!"

"Sam, listen." Blaine put a hand on the older boy's shoulder. "This is really important to me, okay? This concert is going to be the highlight of my summer." He sighed dreamily. "And meeting the band means more to me than anything ever could. I just want to look perfect."

"Blaine, haven't you been listening to Tina all day? You'll look great in anything that you wear. It's not a big deal. Besides, why would you want Kurt and Rachel and Candy to-"

"It's Dani, Sam," Blaine interrupted, earning an eye-roll.

"Yeah, whatever. The point is, if you keep saying the band means so much to you, why would you want them to see a plastic guy with perfect clothes and guyliner? I'm sure plenty of fans dress to impress. If you really wanna catch their attention, just be you. Because they aren't pretending."

The part about the guyliner made Blaine blush, since he thought that no one had noticed the sudden standout of his eyes. But he had to admit, Sam had a point. Pamela Lansbury was a band about expressing who you are. Blaine had no reason to change his look. It was apart of him. Sighing, Blaine nodded.

"You're right, Sam. I should just wear some things from my suitcase back at the house."

"Wait... You're kidding, right?" Sam's eyes widened. "You aren't going to buy anything after we've been here _this_ long?"

Blaine looked a little startled. "But you said I didn't need-"

"Who cares what I said? You're buying something!" The taller boy grabbed his arm and pulled him back into the dressing room. Blaine smiled as soon as they got there, grabbing another outfit to try on.

Tina shook her head at the crazy people she called her best friends. "Sam, you'd give really good advice if you actually followed it yourself."

* * *

"This is bull. I came here to have fun, not to follow a bunch of dumbass rules."

Quinn rolled her eyes at Puck. We're at a mall, Puck. Is it really that hard for you?"

"I'm not talking about this. I'm talking about the curfew rule. The no alcohol rule. The nudity rule. They're all ridiculous!"

Quinn raised an eyebrow. "Nudity rule?"

"Hey. Some guys like going full commando. I happen to be one of then." She laughed at his answer, shifting through the rack of sunglasses.

"Nobody wants to see you naked, Puck. The other rules are necessary too. Especially for you."

"Says the girl whom I stole her cherry from." Quinn rolled her eyes. "You can't deny I'm hot. Or that I've got a really long-"

"PUCK!" She yelled, trying not laugh in the process. The boy, however, did laugh, leaning against a rack of clothes. She shook her head at him. "You're crazy."

"Who said I wasn't?" He slowly walked closer to Quinn. "Who said that's a bad thing?"

The smaller girl swallowed hard, looking up at him.

"Go out with me, Quinn. Sure, we hooked up, and had a baby together, but we've never really tried dating." He grabbed her arm, looking her in the eyes. "And I really like you."

Quinn dropped her gaze, struggling not to shiver over the warm touch on her arm. "H-How many girls?"

Puck looked at her confused. "What?"

"How many girls have you had sex with after me?" He gulped, trying to think of a number. But there were just too many to remember.

"Um..."

"Exactly. We would never work out. You're a bad boy. I'm... wholesome." She looked at the price of a pair of sunglasses before putting them back, sighing. This didn't go without notice. Puck grabbed them back off of the rack.

"How much are they?"

"Puck..."

"How much? I want to buy them for you. I want to show you that I can be a good guy, too."

Quinn sighed. "A hundred."

The boy's eyes went wide. "A hundred dollars for something you'll take off whenever you're indoors? That's whack!"

"I told you."

Puck thought for a moment. He looked around the store before pulling Quinn into a corner where no cameras were pointed toward them. "I may not have the money, but I have the skill." Pulling off the tags, he slipped the glasses into Quinn's purse.

"You can't just steal them!" she quickly took them out. "You're crazy!"

"I believe you already told me that." Puck smirked. "And yes, we can. This is the one spot in the store without a security camera pointing to it. We can put then in you bag and make a clean getaway before anyone notices."

"But it's _my_ bag, Noah! This is illegal!"

"See? I'd break the law to be with you. Isn't that romantic?"

"Not exactly my idea of romance. Maybe for yours. Besides, they aren't even that cute." She wrinkled her nose as she began walking out of the store. "Come on."

Puck was no idiot. Anyone that knew Quinn long enough knew that she wrinkled her nose every time she was dishonest. Who was she fooling?

Quinn waited outside of the store, tapping her foot. She could stop thinking about Puck's request. Sure, they'd had sex. But did she really have feelings for him? Maybe she did. Maybe only because he was her first. It didn't matter. He'd only break her heart, and she couldn't handle another heartbreak.

"Ready to leave?" Puck walked up behind her, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

"We just have to see if Blaine, Tina, and Sam are done shopping. Knowing them, they won't be." Puck sighed as the pair began walking.

"Wanna wait outside then? There's no way I'm going into whatever store The Twinkle Twins are shopping at. I'm not sure how Sam is dealing with them."

Quinn let out a laugh. "I'm pretty sure they dragged him with them. And yeah, let's go outside."

The duo made their way through the busy mall and to the exit door. As soon as they stepped outside, the bright California sun blinded them, causing Quinn to shade her eyes as Puck gave a mischievous smirk.

"I bet you wish you had those glasses now, don't you?"

"Shut up, Puck. It's only sunlight."

"Hm..." Puck grinned teasingly, sticking a hand down the front of his pants, making Quinn cringe in disgust.

"What the hell are you doing? We're in public! Take your hand out!"

Puck sighed. "I guess you don't want these, then." He whipped out the sunglasses that were being housed in his trousers. Quinn's eyes widened to the size of saucers.

"You stole them after I told you not to?"

"You were only worried about getting caught," Puck quipped, holding out the glasses to her. "But you didn't take them, I did. You're just an innocent girl that lovingly accepted a pair of designer sunglasses from a charming stud." He winked, again shoving the glasses in her direction.

"You need to take those back to the store! Do you really want to go back to juvie?"

The mohawk-sporting teen rolled his eyes. "If I went back in the store, I'd be caught for sure. It's safer just to keep the glasses and make a run for it."

Quinn bit her lip, crinkling her nose. She also did this whenever she was thinking hard, and Puck found it absolutely adorable. He found _everything_ about Quinn adorable. He only hoped that one day, the blonde would feel the same way about him.

Abruptly, Quinn snatched the sunglasses out of his hands, putting them on. Despite playing it cool, Puck was stunned to see her actually accepting his stolen gift.

"You didn't buy these for me."

"I... what?"

"You didn't buy these for me," Quinn repeated, facing slightly away from him. "If anyone asks, I bought them at a knock-off price with the money my parents gave me."

Puck smiled, looking longingly at the beautiful girl in front of him. It wasn't exactly what he had hoped for, but it was a start.

* * *

_I can't breathe._

_They're here. All five of them. In the same building as me._

_How am I alive?_

Blaine was currently staring up at the stage in which his idols were about to step onto, yet he still couldn't believe he was here.

_What __**he**__ looks at me? Will he like my outfit?_

After a few more hours of deciding, he, Tina, and Sam had settled on red skinnies and a blue/white striped shirt for Blaine, alone with a matching blue dress for Tina. Sam wore normal clothes just to prove how much less he could care. Blaine was the complete opposite: he cared _too_ much. He had to impress Kurt and meet up with his standards of fashion.

The back-up band were currently setting up onstage. Blaine knew every one of them.

_Caleb- Lead guitarist_

_Finn- Drums (Also Rachel's boyfriend)_

_Laura- Keyboard_

_Derrick- Base_

Some might say that knowing the entire PamLan crew was a bit overboard, but Blaine felt as if it were his duty as a fan to give tribute to all the people that made the band come together.

"Blaine, calm down. You already have armpit stains and the concert hadn't even started yet." Tina shook her head at the boy. She could even feel the warmth of his excitement. Blaine glanced at his armpits, and sure enough, there were two wet spots seeping through the fabric.

"Shit! I can't let Kurt see me like this!"

Sam was unable to hold in his laughter.

"I'm serious! He'll notice, and think I'm some sort-of sweaty freak!"

"Look at you, bro. You are a sweaty freak."

Tina held Blaine's fist as it flew over her head, aimed for Sam's jaw. "Guys, stop! Just enjoy the concert!"

"I would've if Blaine didn't drag us here three hours early! My feet are killing me, and there's no chairs in the pit!"

Blaine sent daggers his way. "It's worth it if you want good seats. Would you rather sit in the back and only see their shadows?"

Sam shut up.

Just in time, too.

The band began to play, as the lights in the seating area dimmed. The crowd screamed in excitement, all ready to see the five people that had changed their lives forever.

Blaine nearly peed his pants.

He couldn't believe it was really happening. In mere seconds, Pamela Lansbury would be only a yard or two away from right where he was standing. More like shaking then standing.

"I can't believe this is happening. It's unreal."

Tina grinning, hearing the jitteriness in her friend's voice. She had never seen him this happy, not even in glee club. Everyone suspected that his home life wasn't the greatest, mostly due to the fact that Blaine would always change the subject when his parents were about to be discussed. She was so pleased to see him genuinely happy for once.

Almost unnoticeably, the ground began to rattle. Blaine spotted five missing floorboards on the stage, discovering how the band must arrive.

_They're coming through the floor._

It all happened in the blink of an eye, all while the crowd chanted (i)Pamela Lansbury in a loop. Slowly but surely, the hairlines of five people appeared in each box; one black, three brown, and one blue. Soon, the hairlines turned into heads, and the heads turned into humans. Humans recognized as Elliott, Santana, Rachel, Dani, and Kurt.

_And Kurt._

Blaine stood there awestruck, his jaw slacked open as he glues his eyes to the blue-eyed boy. "It's them. It's really them..."

They all looked absolutely stunning, but Kurt, of course, stood out the most. His tight, yellow shirt and bright, red pants clung to his body in a way that was nearly sinful. It was if they were teasing Blaine about the fact that they were wrapped around Kurt's body and he wasn't.

_Into the Groove_ started playing, Kurt and Elliott taking the lead. All five members danced around the stage in sync, winking at the occasional lucky fan, and sometimes reaching out a single hand into the crowd.

But the dancing is was really caught Blaine's attention.

The way that Kurt swiveled his hips was downright dirty, suggestive, even. The bulge in the boy's pants was evident, thanks to the skinny jeans. And that ass...

_That ass._

Blaine would've been alright if the entire concert was made up of Kurt standing solo on stage, dancing alone. In fact, he was hoping for the movements never to come to an end.

The concert flew by in a flash. Song after song, interlude after interlude. Blaine knew that it was impossible to make the night any more fantastic.

And then it happened.

Kurt was doing his solo version of _I Want to Hold Your Hand_ when a true heaven-sent miracle happened.

Kurt looked at him. Right at him.

Not only did he look, he lingered. For quite a bit too long.

The look in his eyes was strange. He almost looked surprised. Why would Kurt Hummel be surprised to see _him_?

Kurt must have realized he was staring, quickly forming his signature smile and winking at him before skipping to the other side of the stage.

Blaine was an abyss of joyfulness.

* * *

"Great concert, guys. You were amazing as always." Joey patted Elliott on the back, smiling proudly at the band he'd been managing. "Ready for an equally amazing meet and greet?"

"Always, Joey! It's my favorite part of the night! Seeing people that appreciate my talent always makes me feel accomplished." Kurt rolled his eyes at Rachel. She clearly was excited for all the wrong reasons.

"No me gusta. Britt's waiting back at the hotel. Can't I just skip this one?"

Rachel sent daggers Santana's direction. "No way, Santana! We can't let the fans down! Believe it or not, there's someone out there that loves you and has payed money just to see you. Which means Brittany can wait."

The hispanic rolled her eyes, walking to the signing table with Kurt. "I swear, there's about to be one member of this band missing, and it's not going to be me..."

"And I suppose there's nothing I can say to make you guys get along?"

"You know us so well."

There was always tension between the two girls, whether in be playful or not. Kurt figured that they had some sort-of past, being that they grew up together. Most of the time, he tried ignoring it, as did Elliott and Dani. Other times, he just had to be the referee and call time-out.

Kurt took his seat at the end of the booth, next to Santana. He sighed in relief as he saw Rachel sit down at the other end. Thank god he wouldn't have to sit through them arguing for an hour and a half.

The group fell into a moment of silence before Elliott decided to make conversation.

"So, are you guys having fun on the tour so far?"

"It's pretty rad, yeah." Dani slouched back in her chair. "I don't think I'll ever get over the amount of people that scream our names every night. It's totally wicked."

Kurt agreed. The sheer amount of pride and satisfaction to having such a large fan base was unbelievable. "Imagine where we'd be without each other..."

"Broadway!"

"Scissoring my girlfriend."

Kurt groaned alongside Dani and Elliott. Clearly their bandmates weren't very sentimental people.

"For once I'm with Santana and Rachel," Kurt said. "Let's get this signing over with so we don't have to hear their bickering for much longer."

He heard two graceful 'amens' being muttered as the first fan came over.

Other than the first debacle, the rest of the night flew by smoothly. Kurt was the literal definition of exhausted, so he figured that his daytime meds had finally worn off. He was bound and determined to make it through the signing without falling asleep, just for the fans.

The cycle was an easy one: Greet, smile, accept compliment, sign, laugh at joke, move on. Nobody even noticed the fact that Kurt's eyelids were beginning to droop over his pupils, or that the color was slowly draining from his face. He checked the time.

_10:43. Seventeen minutes._

The last bundle of groupies was finally herded in, making Kurt sigh with relief.

"Hang in there, pasty. We're almost done." Santana whispered to Kurt as the line progressed across the table. Kurt almost mustered enough energy to laugh for real.

One by one, the group was condensing. Kurt could see the end of the line now.

Suddenly, time seemed to freeze.

There he was. At the very end of the line. With those gelled-down curls and nervous, dimpled smile. The boy that Kurt had pinpointed in the audience beforehand.

He could only think of four words.

_Please don't remember me._

* * *

_Kurt stumbled along the hallways of his new school. Well, his _second_new school, meaning this was the second high school that he had attended, and in only two years._

_This school was different than the other. It was so... welcoming. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that it was a private school, but that small sense of comfort made Kurt all the more warm inside._

_Were all private schools so big? Kurt had barely found his was to homeroom and his first two classes. Now, he was on a mission to locate the cafeteria, which was supposed to be on the lower level. He was on level two... or was he on level three?_

_Kurt shook his head, quickening his pace. His brain was a wreck after calculous and PE. After dealing with his newly discovered bully in a bully-free zone._

_Gym was nearly as horrible as math. While changing, he took glances at Myers and his friend. Every time he did, they'd cover up some part of their body, making a girly face as if he were peaking at their junk. When they had begun running laps, the two boys would jog beside each other. Once reaching Kurt, they'd split to run around him in a circle, a circle that was much too close for Kurt's liking. He already felt suffocated in his new environment._

_Despite all that had happened in his first two classes, Kurt was dreading lunch most of all. Would anyone let him sit with them? Would they pretend the seat was saved if he tried sitting there? Would he have to eat alone in the bathroom like he did every day last year?_

_After awhile, Kurt reached a staircase, leading down to what appeared to be the ground floor. This was when Kurt noticed the hustle in everyone's pace, as if they were in a hurry to get someplace. You couldn't technically be late to lunch, so it was a query as to where they all were headed._

_Curiously, Kurt tapped the kid in front of him on the shoulder. "Excuse me, could I ask you a question? I'm new here."_

_Kurt couldn't contain a normal pulse as the mystery man turned around. He was absolutely gorgeous; gelled curls fell from his roots, his olive skin tone matching them perfectly. His golden eyes stared right into Kurt's very soul. The world felt as if it stopped just so the boy could turn and face him. As if he had the privilege to look upon a face sculpted by heaven._

_Kurt realized he was staring a bit too long, clearing his throat. "So what exactly is going on?"_

_"The Glee Club!" He responded, his voice as smooth as honey, with a hint of rasp. "Every now and then they throw an impromptu performance in the senior commons. Tends to shut the whole school down for awhile."_

_Kurt felt as if he were on Cloud 9. Here he was, standing in the middle of a staircase chatting up a Greek god that was friendly and didn't want to pummel his face to a pulp. He was living a true dream._

_One thing the heaven-sent boy mentioned peaked his interest. At his former school, anyone that was involved in choir, band, theater, or any of the arts was considered a total loser. Here, people were rushing to see the show choir bust a groove._

_"So wait, the glee club here is kind of cool?" He asked, not losing the boy's amber gaze._

_"Yeah! They're like rockstars!" he replied enthusiastically. It sure seemed like the teen was eager for the group to perform, even more so than any of the other students rushing about._

_Kurt raised his eyebrows, taken aback by the boy's kind smile. This only made him smile wider, however. "Come on! I know a shortcut."_

_He reached out to grab Kurt's hand. Sparks seemed to explode out of their hands as butterflies flurried inside Kurt's stomach. They had made an immediate connection. Kurt couldn't have that._

_He regrettably pulled his hand away. "I-I can't. I've got someplace else to be."_

_The smile on adolescent's face fluctuated slightly, but didn't completely disappear. "Are you sure? I assure you, they're really good. If not, maybe I could show you where you need to be. You look lost, which isn't a shock. It's a pretty big school to get used to and-"_

_"I'll be fine. Thank you, though." Kurt hurriedly made his way down the remainder of steps and dashed down the opposite corridor that everyone else was streaming towards, missing the disappointed look on the boy's face. He instantly regretted his decision._

_The teen had meant no harm; he was sweet, charming, and not to mention _very_good-looking. Watching a silly little show tune wouldn't of hurt him any. Besides, with everyone there, he'd surely be promised a seat in the cafeteria._

_Perhaps it was nerves that had driven Kurt away. The boy looked like a Disney prince from straight out of an animated movie. He was also the nicest guy Kurt had ever encountered. It was almost as if he wanted to make friends with Kurt. He certainly wasn't trying to bully or taunt him._

_Kurt reeled his head around, expecting to catch the boy still staring back at him. Only, he wasn't. Kurt's fallen angel was gone._

_And he didn't even know his name._

* * *

"Excuse me?"

Kurt snapped out of the flashback, apologizing to the fan and signing her poster. Looking down the line, he saw that the mystery boy from his past was next. Already.

He hadn't changed a single bit. Instead of being clothed in a school uniform, the male was now suited in normal clothes. Adorable normal clothes that Kurt would've handpicked himself. His hair now included a bit more gel, not that Kurt minded. A faint blush also creeped his already rosy cheeks.

_Beautiful._

Amber eyes met Kurt's baby blues as he stepped in front of Kurt's signing area. However, his gaze was filled with admiration, not remembrance. Phew.

"H-Hi Kurt," the teen choked out, visibly shaking from nerves. Kurt almost let loose a laugh; years back, he had been the nervous, shy one. The roles had definitely been reversed.

"Hey there... What's your name?"

Kurt thought that the boy was about to have a heart attack. He looked at him as if to say _'My name? You want to know my name?'_

"I-It's Blaine. Kurt I... I'm such a huge fan. I idolize you. You're my world."

The blush rose from both boys' cheeks. Kurt couldn't believe his ears. Could the boy—now known as Blaine—that he had previously met now see him as an ultra-famous celebrity?

"I really mean it," Blaine continued on. "I relate to the whole band on every level, especially you. It's like... I know you... or something."

A knot rose in Kurt's throat. He had made a connection from before. This was bad. Very bad.

He let out a small chuckle. "Thank you. Our fans really mean a lot to us. You're the reason this whole tour is possible. I should be the one thanking you."

Kurt was shocked he could improvise so well while his heart was about to break from his chest and fly across the room.

He quickly signed Blaine's merchandise, not looking into the traps that were the boy's golden eyes. He didn't think he could've looked away if he did.

"It was nice meeting you, Blaine."

"You too..."

Before another word was said, Blaine disappeared through the door, earning a relieved sigh from Kurt. He couldn't risk anyone from his past ruin his future.

However, if Kurt would've take a peak at Blaine's eyes, he wouldn't have been able to miss the longing sorrow implanted there.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:**  
**Long time no see! Once again, sorry for my sloth-like updating skills. I just really like taking my time writing in order to give you guys the best story possible, rather than slapping together something that I wrote ****in two hours ****without rereading or adding on. Anyways, here's chapter 5! Hope you guys enjoy. Please feel free to tell me what you think in the comments. Positive reviews really help me find the inspiration to write! xx**

* * *

After a full hour of staring at the ceiling, Blaine managed to carry himself out of bed and down the stairs for breakfast. His heart was still heavy and his ears still ringing from the previous night, and he still couldn't believe it had happened.

"Well well, look who decided to show their face," Quinn smirked, stuffing her face full of eggs in a somewhat elegant manner. "Up there basking in the afterglow of meeting someone famous?"

Sighing, Blaine grabbed a clean plate, filling it with sausage links and scrambled eggs. He then found an empty seat in the corner of the couch and took it without looking anyone in the face.

Whispers and murmurs filled the room, everyone stealing quick glances at him. Blaine could care less that his friends were talking about him. All that he cared about was Kurt.

Kurt, the man of his dreams that probably didn't give a shit about him.

The very first time that Blaine had laid eyes on the beautiful boy, he instantly fell in love with him. That million dollar smile and those luminous blue eyes drove him into a state of bliss that nothing could replace, and though he could only see them through the screen of his phone or computer, it was like they _connected_ in some way. As if they were meant to be, in this lifetime and in all their others.

Blaine could hardly wait to see his love in person. The line leading up to Kurt had seemed miles upon miles long.

_Why did he have to sit at the very edge of the meet and greet table?_

After a half hour that seemed to last days, there he was. Kurt, in his full beauty, right in front of Blaine's very eyes. Finally.

Of course, Blaine had made a complete fool of himself. _"I idolize you. You're my world."_ Could he have been any more of a groupie? The words that had mindlessly ran from his mouth haunted his brain with every thought of them.

_Stupid stupid stupid._

But that wasn't the worst of it. Kurt had looked at him with so much anxiousness. He'd almost looked_ scared_. Had he been too forward? Did he look like some sort-of crazed fan?

To say Blaine was disappointed was incorrect. He was _devastated_. All this time, he had thought meeting the brown-haired beauty would spark a special relation between the two. As if Kurt would find a particular interest in Blaine. As if he'd find him attractive.

_As if someone like that would want to date someone like him._

"You haven't touched much on your plate," Sam's mother cut the silence, setting another tray of freshly made sausage onto the counter, that of which Puck immediately ran for.

"I... haven't had much of an appetite. Sorry, Mrs. Evans."

Tina, who seemed to be in a state of shock, rose to her feet, walking into the kitchen. "Blaine, the cataclysmic eater, isn't hungry for breakfast?" She earned a few chuckles that echoed into Blaine's skull as if it were a hollow cave. The joke only made him want to bang his head against the wall harder than he had wished to seconds ago.

"Maybe he just woke up from a dream where his mouth was very full," Puck joked as he stuffed his face with meat. This made the entire room burst out in laughter, despite Mrs. Evan's harsh glare.

"Yeah. Haha. That's a good one. Good joke, Puck," Blaine spat, picking up is plate. Deciding it would be better to eat alone, he made his way to the front door and onto the porch, his mind continuing to drift back to the previous day.

Not every part of it was disappointing. Meeting the other band members was fantastic. Elliott and Dani were as wholesome as the gossip magazines said (not that Blaine had_ ever_ picked up one of those girly things). Even Santana and Rachel met their descriptions of ambitious, yet genuine. They had all kindly given him their autographs, along with a friendly smile and handshake.

Blaine wish he would've absorbed meeting them more. Instead, he saw them as a warm-up to prepare for meeting Kurt. Since that was clearly a lost cause, he really regretted bypassing his other four idols.

What exactly had Blaine been thinking in his head as he met Kurt? Why hadn't he prepared something to say? Why had he thought that his fanboy personality would be totally calm and collected in front of the man he practically worshiped?

As Blaine stared out at the traffic-free road in front of him, he felt a hand reaching out to firmly grasp his shoulder.

"I'd ask if something's wrong with you, but I already know something's up," Sam said knowingly. "Spill."

Blaine huffed, deciding to come clean about his inner feelings. "It's just not fair, Sam! None of it is! Nothing ever goes right for me, and I really just wanted this _one_ thing to have a happy ending!"

Sam sat down, nodding for him to continue. If Blaine wasn't so raged, he probably would've smiled. Sam was always a good listener.

"He is _everything_ to me! My whole existence is basically dedicated to following his every move, yet he doesn't even know I exist! I went to that signing thinking some huge realization would come along and smack him in the face, making him see that I'm something special, when really, all he sees me as is another fan! Another dollar in his pocket! Another person to buy his music! Another-"

"Blaine," Sam interrupted. "You're ranting and ranting like being his fan is the worst thing that you could possibly be."

"Of course it is, Sam! It only proves something that I've been told for years. That I'm nothing special."

Sam shook is head as he walked over to Blaine and put one arm around his shoulder, pointing his other up at the sky. "See those birds?"

Blaine looked above himself to see a flock of birds flying in a triangular formation. He couldn't believe it; he was trying to have a serious conversation while his buddy was mindlessly birdwatching. "What's so special about a bunch of birds?"

"Each one of those birds has a place. If a single one fell, there wouldn't be a triangle anymore. The flock would be lopsided and demented. You're like those birds."

Blaine rolled his eyes. "Now I've been demoted to an inhuman status. Thanks so much, Sam."

"No, Blaine!" Sam shook his head. "You don't understand. That flock of birds is like Pamela Lansbury. Without each bird inline with the next, the band fails to succeed as the birds would fail to fly. Every fan is important, no matter how big or small. Those five guys cherish each and every fan they get. They wouldn't have made it without you. You've been there for them from the start."

Blaine watched as the birds flew out of sight, both lines of the 'v' in perfect symmetry. For a moment, he just stared at the baby blue sky, realizing how wise his friend's words had been. For being such a goofy guy, Sam had a way with words at times.

"I guess you're right, in a way," Blaine admitted. "I shouldn't be so down in the dumps. Meeting Kurt was the dream of a lifetime, and I should be happy that I had the chance to do so. Even if things didn't work out exactly the way I had planned..."

Sam raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "What exactly did you expect to happen? For Kurt to fall in love at first sight and propose marriage?"

Blaine finally broke out a smile. "Sam..."

"For him to lean over the table and give you a passionate kiss? For him to give you his nu-"

"Put a sock in it." Blaine laughed, covering Sam's mouth. "Though the kiss thing didn't sound too bad..."

Grinning, Sam began to pull Blaine back into the mansion. "Come on, get dressed. I'll take you to that cafe we saw earlier and buy you a coffee."

That was an offer that Blaine simply couldn't refuse.

* * *

The sound of Kurt's phone ringing the following morning woke him up from one of the most peaceful slumbers he had experienced in months (thanks to his new prescription pills). Groaning, he felt around on his nightstand for his device, grabbing it and putting it to his ear. His morning voice was groggy, so hopefully the person calling would be able to understand him.

"Hello?"

"Kurt!" He heard Rachel screech back into his ear. "I'm having a crisis!"

Kurt checked his alarm clock, which wasn't set to go off for another two hours. "At eight in the morning? Can't it wait?"

"It most certainly cannot! We have a show tonight and I already have plans to get my nails done this afternoon."

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Kurt, regretfully, threw the covers off himself, shivering at the sudden burst of chilled air. This had better be something important.

He yawned. "What happened?"

"I went to grab that one really cute skirt off of my dresser, but it was caught on one of the handles and it ripped!"

Kurt felt like throwing his phone at the wall and going back to sleep. _That_ was the emergency?

"Wait... was it the black leather one that goes with everything, or the green one that I've told you looks like my grandmother's?"

"The black one, of course! I wouldn't have called otherwise. I wear it every night during shows!"

Kurt gasped. Maybe this was serious.

Or maybe he had lost his mind too. Why had she called him about this? His sleep was much more important.

"And you want me to do what exactly?" He asked, brushing his feet over the floor. Hooray, it was freezing...

"I need you to help me find a new one. One even better. Please say yes."

"Rachel..."

"You're my only hope, Kurt! If I ask Dani or Elliott, they'll pick out something rocker-styled, and Santana would make sure my entire ass would hang out the back."

"And what about Finn?"

She laughed. "Are you being serious? _Finn?_ Clothes shopping? No way."

Kurt had to hit himself on the head for that one. Finn's wardrobe was basically made out of plaid shirts, jeans, and sneakers. He was also color blind, which worsened his horrible fashion taste.

"Please, Kurt. I'm begging you! I know this really cute boutique right outside this cafe that isn't too far from your house. You'd love it."

_Yeah, I'd also love sleeping too, but apparently I'm too good of a friend to do that._

"Fine." Kurt sighed, finally standing up. "I'll be there in half an hour."

Rachel squealed. "Great! See you there!"

Kurt hung up the phone, traveling into the bathroom. The carpeted hallway was a much appreciated change from the icy wood floorboards of his bedroom, but it only worsened the feeling of stepping onto the tile bathroom floor.

It only took a glance in the mirror to realize that he had forgotten his eyeglasses on the nightstand. Figuring he might as well not backtrack, Kurt reached into his medicine cabinet, pulling out a bottle of prescription pills. By some miracle, the first day of taking them had been a success. He hadn't felt the least bit drowsy all day, and, unbelievably, he had slept free from memories of his torturous past.

Kurt briskly popped in two of the small tablets and put the bottle away. He knew that it would take quite awhile for the medicine to kick in, so he splashed some water onto his dry, woken skin. Peering into the mirror close enough so that the image wasn't blurry, Kurt stared at his reflection.

Sure, on a beauty scale, Kurt wasn't considered ugly. However, he never really thought of himself as beautiful either. His eyes were particularly his best feature, despite the right one being a tad bit lazy. His mother had once told him that the eyes are the one part of a person to never age. Young Kurt had found the fact marveling, and now found that his mother couldn't have been more right. His eyes were the same shade of blue that they had been at the age of five.

The rest of him, however, Kurt didn't see interest in. His skin was so pale that it was almost ghostly. Even if he attempted to tan, he would instantly turn the shade of a ripened tomato. His nose was a bit too pointy. Despite never being kissed, he felt as if it'd get in the way of doing so. And his smile...

Kurt hated his smile.

He didn't understand how so many people could put something as horrendous as his smile on their walls and fawn over it. His teeth were the smallest he had ever seen in a grown man. When he sang, they weren't able to be seen, making him look like some 60 year-old grandmother. When he smiled, they only peaked out the slightest bit. He had been called many names by his former teachers and peers because of his teeth, including Toothless Elf, Old Maid, and Dentures. Kurt had always laughed them off, but they had really taken a toll on his self confidence. Kurt couldn't understand how anyone would think of _him_ as attractive.

Sighing, he splashed one more flick of water onto his face before turning off the sink. He proceeded half blindly to the rest of his morning regimen before stumbling back out of the bathroom to collect his eyewear from the nightstand. Letting out a big yawn, Kurt stared at his bed, yearning to hop back inside the warmth of his covers and float back to a dreamless sleep.

"I hope these pills start working soon," he mumbled to himself, heading toward the kitchen. "Or else I'll fall asleep on top of a clothes rack."

Little did he know, his near sightless eyes had caused him to grab his night pills rather than his daytime ones.

* * *

Meanwhile, inside the newly acclaimed Evan's beach home, Artie sat back in his wheelchair, taking everything in. In any average summer vacation, he would be hooked and wired on the latest edition of Halo, eyes glued to the screen and hands to the controller. His cellphone would be silently receiving texts from friends, which he'd answer at some ungodly time in the morning so that he wouldn't have to deal with interruptions to his gaming.

This year was different. Mere days ago, he and the rest of his pals were in plain old Lima. Now, they were in one of the most well known states in the country for the entire summer. Artie was still in a state of disbelief. He'd never even imagined being able to leave Ohio, due to the worrying antics of his mother. Some of his friends would argue that he's scared to take on the world in a chair, but that was a complete lie.

Artie couldn't believe how unappreciative the others were being. They were eating a breakfast buffet with a glorious beach view, away from their parents' complaints—never mind Sam—and yet they were all texting, complaining, and bickering on as they would back at home. They were living any kid's miracle, damn it! Now wasn't the time to check out what other students were posting on Instagram, or rant about how their glee coach never gave everyone an equal number of solos. Now was the time to kick back and enjoy the ride of a lifetime.

"I'm so tired of this heat!" Quinn whined, fanning herself off with a magazine. "It's endless! I feel like I'm in a sauna!"

"_I'm_ tired of sitting here listening to all these protests!" Artie spat, making all heads turn his way. "We're in California, and half of you are doing nothing but staring at your phones, or griping about things rather than being thankful. Sam didn't have to invite us. Why don't we go out and make our time here worth it?"

This caused a pregnant moment of silence before a certain mohawked teen exploited his tongue.

"Man, I feel like an ass."

"Artie's right," Tina agreed. "We should get out. Do something fun."

"Easy for you to say. You went to a concert last night!" Quinn conflicted, her soft eyes glaring. "I don't remember a certain bleach blond buying tickets for the rest of us."

Tina shrugged. "Does my hair look blond to you?"

Quinn had a point. It was rude of Sam not to invite the rest of the group to the concert. Artie only knew a few of their songs from the radio, but they were catchy, nonetheless. He would've liked to see a live concert, and meet the famous band members after.

"Why don't we do a little shopping?" Artie suggested. "You can't go wrong with that."

"We all did that already. While you were doing that space museum thing," Quinn's eyes rolled, clearly not impressed at that idea of time spending.

"Well, how about just chillin' on the beach? We could all go for a tan. Especially me." Artie glanced down at his pasty skin.

"You know, I saw an ad for a carnival yesterday at the mall," Tina chimed in. "It's held on the grounds right outside the beach."

"Yeah, I passed that place on the way home last night," Mr. Evans added, sliding his sausage around on his plate. "They've got tons of rides. Looks like a couple game stations too. Though I wouldn't invest my money in those carnie scammers."

Artie smiled sadly. He remembered loving the festival rides as a young kid, his favorite being the dragon-shaped roller coaster that circled a short, bumpy track. Ever since his accident, the fair was a lot less enjoyable. There were certain rides he couldn't experience. He held up the already endless line in order for his friends to load him into the seat, over and over again for every ride. Artie preferred an activity where he could just stay sitting.

"That actually sounds pretty dope," Puck spoke out. "I'm up for puking my guts out."

Quinn nodded. "Me too. Well, not for the barfing part. I've always wanted one of those little goldfish that comes in a bag. I could never win one as a kid."

Artie wasn't liking what his friends were saying. "But-"

"So it's settled," Tina concluded, not hearing Artie's subtle objection. "We'll spend tonight at the carnival, whether Blaine and Sam like it or not."

It wasn't the two missing boys that would despise the idea. Sometimes Artie wished that he didn't feel so left out all the time.

* * *

Blaine almost spit back the coffee into the cup it came in.

"This is _nasty_!"

Sam chuckled. "I warned you that drinking it without creamer wasn't a good idea. That stuff is stronger that The Hulk."

Blaine grabbed for two packets of the nearest coffee extravagant, pouring them in. "How do people drink this stuff? Do they really have _that_ high of a pain intolerance?"

"Maybe it's all they had back in the olden days." Sam sipped his iced mocha. "I've never really cared about any type of coffee. It all tastes like shit to me. Unless it's the cold kind."

"I swear, you're not American. Or a teenager."

"I'm not. I'm actually a German-American adolescent."

Blaine proceeded to elbow him. "Shut up."

"You love me."

"I know. I'm an idiot for it."

The cafe was a small one, on the corner of a quaint shopping district. It reminded Blaine of The Lima Bean, a popular coffee shop back in Lima. Though the pastries there weren't nearly as tasteful as the ones currently stuffed in his mouth.

"So am I doing a good job of helping you forget that Kurt guy?"

Blaine's face suddenly fell. "Well, you were. Until now."

Sam bit his lip. "Shit, sorry. I don't always think things through before I say them."

Sam was known for his strange remarks. Most people found them annoying, but Blaine didn't mind them. Everyone had their quirks.

"It's alright," Blaine said with a sigh. "I've been thinking about what you said, and you're right. Being a fan as obsessive as I am is a pretty important responsibility. And even if I'm not some prince to Kurt, at least I got to meet him. Most fans can't even get that far."

"That's the spirit! Cheers!"

The two boys laughed as they clinked their foam cups together, drinking from them. Blaine really did spit back into his beverage this time.

"The creamer is even worse than plain black coffee!"

Sam couldn't help but chuckle, which caused him to also spit his coffee back out. Soon, both were cracking up, holding their stomachs in laughter.

"Whoa... Sam. Who's that guy over there?"

A figure stumbled up the sidewalk across the road, looking as if he'd had one too many drinks. The hood of his jacket shielded his unreadable face, and his feet teetered in a path that seemed to unwillingly change. Blaine's first guess was that the man had come from the tavern he and Sam had passed on the way to their destination, but something seemed off. Perhaps it was the fact that the man was dressed in expensive looking clothing, or that he seemed much too young to be an alcoholic.

Turning around, Sam took in a breath. "The dude can hardly cross the street! You're not supposed to need help with that until you're eighty!"

"I'm not liking the way he's heading. Looks like he'll wander into traffic."

"He might. I guess that'd be on him, though. I mean, who gets wasted in the middle of the day? What an idiot."

Blaine hadn't been a stranger to alcohol. He may have never taken a sip, other than that of wine during church, but he'd seen first handedly how bonkers people could get because of it. Just three Christmas's earlier, his father and uncle had nearly given each other black eyes after drinking too much. It made Blaine question why anyone would want to drink in the first place.

"Do you think I should help him? I wouldn't want him getting hurt."

Sam couldn't believe his ears. "Help him? A drunken stranger? That you don't know? Bro, that _screams_ bad decision to me."

"I wouldn't wanna see him get hit though. I'd feel responsible." Blaine fidgeted, eyes still glued on the shadow that was now heading closer and closer to the edge of the walkway.

"B, you're way too nice of a person sometimes, know that?"

There was no time to reply. It happened in the blink of an eye, as fast as a droplet of water splashing to the pavement during a rainstorm. The man, who hadn't looked for any oncoming traffic, began crossing the street. Blaine spotted an approaching SUV; the driver of the vehicle's head was down, probably to send a text message. The picture wasn't a pretty one, and Blaine knew that he was the only one that could stop it.

He flew out of his chair, pushing it to the bricks below. His feet hardly brushed the ground as he sprinted harder and faster than ever before. Sam shouted something, but it was muffled from Blaine's ears. All of his focus was on the mysterious man. He bent his knees before diving at him, knocking both their bodies away as the suspected car zoomed by the spot that they had just fallen from. If Blaine had been there a second later, they would've both been roadkill.

_Holy shit. He had just saved this man's life_.

Panting, Blaine let his weight off the heavily breathing man, whose mouth was dropped open enough to fit an entire apple. The color was drained from his face, and his hood had fallen off of his head, revealing a startlingly familiar hairstyle underneath. His brightly colored eyes were the size of two full moons.

There was a long strand of silence as the two stared at each other in recognition. Their hearts beat as if they were in a race, gaining speed second by second. Two eyes met two eyes, and then everything clicked.

It was Blaine's turn to drop his jaw.

The man's voice shook as he managed to choke out a single word.

"_Blaine_?"


End file.
